A Meaningful Reunion
by laughXoutXloud
Summary: Jake & Miley are secretly dating because a killer is after them. Jake pretends he's dating Amanda so whoever the is the killer gets the wrong idea. Turnsout, the killer is Amanda. For therapy, Miley emails a stranger.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I _DO NOT_ own Hannah Montana. Please don't sue me.

Regular POV:

"Hey Miles," Lilly greeted to me. She fumbled with her locker combo, concentrating on the numbers. Miley had the locker next to her, and she was absentmindedly shuffling the contents of her locker around.

"Hey…" Miley turned to see who was talking,"Lilly." She dug through her locker, moving some more books around. Lilly noticed how Miley was looking around, as if she was a new student at the school. She looked faraway, but not daydreaming…more of a longing sort of feeling was stuck in her at the moment; Lilly could tell, being her best friend.

"Hey…Miley? What happened? Are you all right?" Lilly asked in concern, forgetting about her impossible locker.

"Oh, me? Yeah, yeah. Just…" Miley looked down at her shoes.

"What? You can tell me," Lilly assured.

Miley's POV:

I nervously looked away. I didn't want to tell. And besides, it was I feeling I could hardly explain to _myself._ It felt as if I were Hannah at the moment with all of my fans staring at me in awe, myself being the direct spotlight. All of my fans always looked like zombies. And speaking of zombies…Jake. Gosh, I missed him. He was so gorgeous. I missed his cute smile, and his charm. I felt so special when he would look at me and suddenly start to glow like a lightening bug was trapped inside him, trying to get out. Life had drained its color, and _everything _seemed dull. Sigh…

Regular POV:

But Miley was off the hook, as Oliver came trotting over.

"Hey! Locker Man, can you open mine please?" Lilly begged hopefully.

"Course. Lucky for you I'm here right _now_," Oliver commented, doing his special thing. He swung open the locker door proudly.

"There you go, my lady."

"Wait. What do you mean 'Lucky for you I'm here _now_' mean?" Miley asked, not even really that curious. She leaned in anyway.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Oliver asked furrowing his eyebrows.

"No!" Lilly and Miley said in unison.

"Oh…"Oliver said, shrugging.

"So? What?!" asked Lilly impatiently.

"Let's just say that Miley's "boyfriend" is back. I was talking to him on the way here. We had so much to catch up on—" But Miley was skidding down the hall already.

Miley POV:

Oh Lord, I _cannot_ believe that Jake Ryan is back. I didn't even hear the rest of what Oliver was saying—I sprinted down the hall. I suddenly felt awake, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on me. I was so excited to see him! My mind was racing.

Jake's POV:

I needed to see Miley. God I missed her. She was so beautiful, so funny, so smart, so sweet. I needed her. Those four months felt like four _years. _Four very long years.

Whoa! I turned around after the sound of someone falling, and then a crack. It was Miley! What had I done?!

Miley's POV:

What did I just do? I tripped over Jake and made a fool out of myself, that's what I had done. I hadn't been watching where I was going. Everyone was staring. I looked at him, and tried to smile, but I found myself sort of crying. I was supposed to be happy. Jake was back! My boyfriend was back, if you call him one. He was _back._ Then I realized my leg was bleeding. The skin had tore open, and blood was gushing from it. It felt like someone had taken a knife and cut off my leg from the knee down.

"Ugh…" I moaned.

Jake's POV:

I felt so bad. Miley's leg was bleeding like crazy. Red was oozing down her legs like streams. She was sitting on a pool of her own blood. I knelt down.

"Miley, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" I looked at her face, which was stained with tears, yet still beautiful. She just cried.

"I-I…"Miley moaned. I saw everyone staring, actually forming a circle, and watching. I followed Miley's disturbed gaze at the other students.

"Um, can you please leave us alone?" I said to everyone. They walked away, and looked over their shoulders a couple of times before resigning.

Then out of nowhere it seemed, the bell pierced through the hall.

"I need to get you to the nurse," I said hurriedly. I got ready. How else was I supposed to transport her?

"Hmmm—Uh, Jake—"Miley said uncomfortably supporting her body by putting her hands behind her. I looked into her deep blue eyes. She avoided my eye contact.

"What, Miley?" I said, ready to scoop her up.

"Don't." She said, looking down. I looked up at her.

"Miley, I need to get you help. I want you to be safe."

"No, I mean…"she said with difficulty, pain coming to her face. She looked down again, and spoke to the floor, "Don't…pick me up." I understood, and looked at her. She picked up her head, and this time looked straight at my eyes. I instantly got lost in them.

"Miley, I didn't trip you on purpose just so I could pick you up. But I care about you and that is why you have to trust me," I said.

The corner of Miley's mouth seemed to curve into a shy smile, "Only this once, Jake Ryan." I smiled back at her. She didn't smile back; she was too overwhelmed by the pain. I extra-carefully put my arms under her and lifted Miley slowly—she was very light, like I'd expected. She looked again into my eyes, but they didn't smile. They were worried eyes. Sad eyes. I looked away, and she did too. Her curtain of beautiful brown hair fell, hiding her face.

"Miley, are you okay? How's your leg?" I asked, concentrating on my grip. Miley just groaned instead of answering.

I opened the door to the nurse's, and I set her down cautiously on the first bed I saw.

"Ouch…" I heard Miley say to herself. Then she started silently crying. For real. Those other tears she had cried before seemed fake to me now. These tears were sorrowful, and self-pitying. I felt really bad for her right there. I mean, I caused her this screaming pain. She tripped over _me. _I tripped her. I stood there frozen, and it finally came in to my head to get the nurse.

"Uh, Miss…Nurse? Miley got hurt. Her leg is bleeding really badly." A small-structured nurse came in from another room apparently, wearing a squeaky-clean white outfit that looked like it had never been worn. She looked about thirty, and she had dark black hair reaching her shoulders. She took one look at Miley, and gasped. Miley turned to look at her, and then me. Her dark face said _You were watching me cry? God this is embarrassing. _She tried to stop crying, but a few tears slipped out, and slid down her smooth cheeks.

Miley's POV:

God this was embarrassing. I just tripped over Jake Ryan, then he has to carry me to the nurse, and now he was watching me cry. I hadn't known that he was still there. For all I knew, I would have immediately assumed that he had gone to first period class, but I was surprised when I turned around to see him. He cared about me. He really did after all. The nurse looked like she was going to faint when she saw me.

"Oh, _goodness_, child. What has happened?" It was awkward. My head swiveled around, and I stared at Jake. He seemed shaky, but managed, "I wasn't looking, uh, a-and I stood in her way. Um, I tripped her," he explained poorly. He didn't look regretful, "And so I—when I saw that she was really hurt—"

"—he brought me here, knowing exactly what to do. If Jake hadn't brought me here, I would have probably been even more hurt," I finished. Jake looked at me as if _I _had saved him. For some reason, knowing that Jake Ryan wasn't good at everything made me feel better.

The nurse brightened up when she heard that Jake Ryan had heroically rescued me.

"Well, we are absolutely going to have to X-ray that right leg, but for now, I need to go get some treatments. I'll be right back," the nurse excused herself, and walked back into the other room. I looked at my red leg, which was so covered in blood I couldn't see the white flesh color of my skin. Ew. It hurt so much. I wanted to cry. I really did. But no! I wasn't just going to start crying in front of Jake Ryan. I turned around, so my back was to him.

And then I realized that he had sat down next to me. I looked at him. He was so gorgeous. He was like a god or something…

Jake's POV:

Was Miley a goddess or something? She was so beautiful, even when she was crying. She gulped forcefully.

"Miley, breathe in. Take a few breaths." She breathed five times. I could tell that she needed it.

"I really am sorry Miley. I didn't mean to trip you. I didn't mean to hurt you," I tried to say that in my most soothing voice.

"No Jake, it was my fault I was running. I shouldn't have. I was just so excited…" her voice trailed off as if she didn't want to explain the rest.

But I blurted, "What were you so excited for?"

She looked at me. In the eyes. I reached up to her face and tucked a strand of falling hair behind her ear. She was simply silent.

"What Miley? You can tell me. I swear I won't tell a soul." She breathed in again and started.

"I was excited…I was excited to see—" she seemed to debate the matter of telling me in her head as she spoke.

"Miles…" I actually put my arm around her, "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me." She didn't seem to lean in.

She sighed.

"I was just so excited to see you again."

Whoa. That was something I hadn't expected. The whole time I had been dreaming about Miley, she had been dreaming about me too. I suddenly felt all warm inside. I loved Miley. I really did.

She rested her head against my chest. I could feel her heart beating. I fingered with her hair, and she finally smiled.

Miley's POV:

I took the chance, and I rested my head on him. He seemed to like it, so I left it there. I loved his arm around me. It was a safe feeling, as if I hadn't really basically broken my leg. I could stay like this forever. He looked at me, and for the first time in four months, I smiled. A real smile.

A/N: Just probably gonna stay a oneshot. Maybe if people review, than I'll continue. I already wrote other chapters, but...


	2. Chapter 2

Jake's POV:

She smiled. She actually smiled at me. I found myself grinning back at her, and she looked down, blushing so furiously it looked like visual effects.

"Jake…Thanks. Really. What I said to the nurse was true. I mean it," Miley's words dug deep into my heart.

Suddenly the nurse clickity-clacked with her heels back in, holding an armload of supplies and bandages. I abruptly jerked my head up, but Miley stayed leaning on me. She _did_ seem to realize that the nurse was back, but she seemed to like the position too much to move. I was a little embarrassed, but I tried to hide it. The nurse couldn't stop beaming at the fact that Miley was leaning on me, and I was stroking her hair.

"So Miley…How's that leg, eh?" the nurse asked, coming in forward a bit.

Miley picked up her head and replied, "It's getting a _whole_ lot better." She looked at me briefly, and then back at the nurse.

"Really?" asked the nurse happily, as if she didn't believe it. She looked at me, with a face that said somewhere in it _THANK YOU! You must _really _mean a lot to her to make her feel so good…_

"Well, honey, I'm going to wrap up that leg of yours after we get an x-ray of it. So, um, Jake, sweetie, can you please wash the blood off her leg? Carefully now. Blot it with this towel and water." She handed to me a bowl of water and a mini towel, "I'm going to go get the x-ray machine and area ready. I'll be right back, dear." She stepped into a third room, and I hesitantly wet the towel with water.

Miley's POV:

Wow. So now Jake was wiping the blood of my leg. God I felt bad for him, and boy was I ever more embarrassed. His strokes were so soft and extra careful, that I _wanted_ him to keep going.

"Jake…I'm sorry you have to do this. It's kind of…embarrassing." He looked up.

"So you don't want me to do this? I'll go get her—"

"No Jake!" I laughed. "I like when you do it. Your movements are so…careful. I like it. A lot." He smiled, kept going, this time even softer.

"I like you…too much more than a lot."

I could feel by cheeks burning, and I knew I was flushing bright red.

"Gosh, this is getting too mushy even for _me,_" Miley said.

"I don't know how I lived through those months. I needed you. I love hearing your laugh, and stroking your hair, and staring into your eyes—And without that I felt…weak. I missed you _so_ much, Miles."

"Jakey, I thought you were mad at me. I don't even know what happened to me when I pushed you off that rail at the beach. I was someone else. Please forgive me. Please Jake. I missed you. And I know it is only your first day back, but—"

"—I love you," Jake finished. He leaned in and kissed me. The sparks were flying everywhere, and the fireworks were so loud, that we didn't hear the nurse walk back in.

"Oh…" the nurse's voice trailed off, and Jake and I looked up so embarrassed, I thought I was going to die. Right then and there.

The nurse didn't think a second before asking, "Are you two going out?"

"Uh—" I started.

"—Yeah, we are. Sorry about that, Miles just needed a bit of a pick-me up." I was surprised at Jake, but I wasn't mad. I was exactly the contrary.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana or any of these characters (except the nurse!)

Jake's POV:  
OhmyGod. So we were going out. We were. I hugged Miley, without even caring that the nurse was watching.

"Well, then—"the nurse said, a little uncomfortably, "Then…Miley please come into this room over here so I can examine your leg."

Miley looked like she was gonna faint. She just stared at me with a numb expression. Nor glad nor sad nor mad.

Miley's POV:  
I knew that I must've looked stupid, but how was I going to _get _into the room? With Jake carrying me? In front of the school nurse? Ugh. I guess Jake would be sharing my embarrassment, so…

I looked at him and I brought my face close to his, but twisted the other way, not looking at him. I whispered in his face, "I know that I told you only once, but—How else…?" I swallowed. Jake looked at me, his mouth saying nothing. But they read a smile. He picked my up again, and _yes, _I was very _very _embarrassed. But hey. For Jake?

The nurse stared at us like we were the mushiest dumbest yet cutest lovebirds she'd ever seen. I looked down as Jake carried me, for some reason I was trying to hide my bursting smile. He brought me into the room, and set me down gently on the leather chair. I blushed. I opened my mouth but was cut off rudely by the nurse.

"Jake, I think you can go to class now," the nurse chirped.

"No, that's okay ma'am, I think I'll stay here with Mile—" he started protectively.

_My hero! He really does care for me!_

"N-no, no, Jake Ryan, I think Miley is _ab_solutely _fine _without you now. Scoot, your homeroom teacher has probably marked you absent by now," the nurse fought back.

"No, Jakey stay _please_," I pleaded in the hidden fight.

"_No, _nurse, that's _okay._" Jake replied reassuringly, "And besides, the period is almost over." His voice gave me the sense that he was fed-up with the idiot nurse.

The nurse bit her lip guiltily, and stole a quick worried glance out of the corner of her eye at the ticking clock hanging loosely on the wall.

"Hmmm…Fine, Jake Ryan. Do whatever _you _would like. Miley, let's get moving with this x-ray."

Jake's POV:

She started working the machine. Miley's leg was laid out, and they did some sort of procedure. The nurse didn't allow me in the little room, so I wasn't exactly _sure _that that's what happened but that's what it sounded like had happened. Miley needed a cast definitely the nurse said (like I'd trust her anyway), but she wasn't _completely _sure what damage had been done to Miley's leg in detail. Until then, Miley would need to be in a wheelchair for safety. As the nurse said this, Miley looked like she was about to faint. Yet again. I felt bad for Miley. Geez. I didn't mean to!

Miley's POV:

_A wheelchair?!?!?! _Ugh! Shame, shame, shame! Amber and Ashley would be picking on me for the rest of my pitiful miserable _life_. A whole day in a big fat ugly wheelchair that _COMPLETELY _clashed with my clothes! My blood-stained clothes.

"Nurse, erm, my clothes are completely stained," I said.

"Oh, right…"her eyes surveyed my _new _navy corduroys and my striped v-neck sweater (which was _also _new). Just by chance.

"Yeah, so…?" she replied. Alright. That was it.

Jake hurriedly sat me in the big fat ugly wheelchair and rolled me out of the nurse's. She didn't seem to care. Whatever. I was going to a _real _doctor.

"Uh, Jake thanks _so much_ for handling that moron that this school titles as a _nurse. _Only in her dream life will she ever be more than a poor homeless snob. Remind me to search the New York City streets the next time I enter our parallel universe," I tried to not yell.

"Your welcome Miley. And we need to call your dad," he airily kissed me. Oh boy, and I needed it.

"Yeah right! Pronto!" I pulled out my phone, which was luckily handy-dandy in my pocket, and I dialed and called. No one answered. I called Jackson.

"Hey Jackson, I broke my leg and I need to see a _real _doctor _now,_" was the first thing I said into the phone.

"Listen Miley…the hospital just phoned me and uh…Dad's—"

"WHAT?!?!?!"

A/N: I don't usually do these notes but whatever. I hoped you liked the chapter. I know this is a typical FanFic but give me some time! In the end it won't be... Thanx for all the reviewers! You know who you are!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

"_Nooooo_, it's _okay. _Dad just fell down the front steps and broke his arm, it's all right, Miles. Calm down."

"Whew…But really, is he okay?" asked Miley worriedly. She glanced at Jake who was looking at the wall and pressing his lips together.

"Yeah, Miley, but are _you _okay? You broke your leg? How?" Even through the phone, Miley could tell that her older brother was concerned and getting impatient.

Miley's forehead crinkled and she wanted to cry all over again. She breathed in with difficulty. Jake put his hand on Miley's back.

"Listen—" but Jake grabbed the phone from Miley and babbled maturely, "Hey. It's Jake, Miley's boyfriend, talking right now, and it's my entire fault. I wasn't watching and I tripped Miley over by mistake. I'm really sorry. I know it was a small careless mistake with a big result, and I don't know how else to make it up to you. But I do know that we need to get Miley in a hospital now because the school nurse here is nothing but an uncertified moron."

Jackson was even startled at this quick speech, and since when had _the _Jake Ryan, egomaniac, become his sister's boyfriend?

"Well, call Roxy to pick her up and drive her there. I can't just leave school for this! I'm sorry," Jackson hung up after warning him in a rapid voice not to call him again in school.

"What did he say?" Miley asked crankily. She shifted nervously in the wheelchair.

"That we should call this "Roxy" girl to pick you up. But of course I'm going with you."

"You are?" Miley's heart felt like it was a balloon filled with nothing but air and would pop any second, "Really?" Miley kissed him passionately. It was a little annoying, Jake thought, because he had to squat to kiss her. But he really didn't mind.

"So who is "Roxy"?" Jake asked after their wonderful pleasure.

Miley felt her heart pop. But negatively.

How was she going to explain to Jake who Roxy was without giving away her most precious secret? Should she just say that Roxy is a personal family friend? Miley felt her eyes glaze over as she wanted to cry.

Jake knelt down and brushed her hair with his hands and gently massaged her face.

"What is it Miley? Are you alright?" Jake looked directly into her sea blue eyes.

"Roxy is a family friend. She is always there for us because I…I-I don't have a—a m-mom." The warm tears trickled down her cheeks slowly like teeny little rivers and onto her lap.

Jake scrolled down on Miley's contacts list, and found someone named Roxy. He called.

"Roxy here, Hannah Montana's bodyguard—"

Jake covered the phone piece with one hand and to Miley whispered; "You have a family friend that is a bodyguard to _Hannah Montana?" _he choked.

"Yeah," Miley teared up.

"Yeah, it's Jake, Miley's boyfriend and uh, Miley broke her leg," Jake said, now speaking to Roxy.

"Her leg broke? How? And since when did she have a boyfriend?" Roxy screamed.

"Look, we don't have enough time to explain, we just need to get Miley to a hospital, and we need a ride. Can you—?"

"Yes, yes. One…Two…Three…I'm here." Jake was amazed at Roxy's incredible speed as she came into sight and parked at the curb.

"Miley, wow, is she fast," Jake said to Miley, but she had fallen asleep. Jake looked at Miley so peaceful and cute. He wheeled Miley out the door, and met Roxy at the van. Thank goodness it was a van.

Jake saw a rather plumped black woman, with a super rocketing personality, he could already tell by her full expressions.

"Miley just fell asleep. How…?" Jake failed to explain in detail.

Jake lifted Miley and sat her in a seat after hearing Roxy's orders. Roxy packed the wheelchair in the trunk.

Before you could say "hospital", they were there. Jake thought Roxy was some sort of magic.

"She's still sleeping? Well, we'll have to wake her up do the x-ray," the doctor knelt beside Miley's bed.

"No—Doctor, I'll do it." Jake but his hand on Miley;s forehead and whispered softly in her ear, "Miley…Miley, wake up." Miley's eyes gently opened as if in a movie, and she squeaked, "Jake? I'm at the hospital?"  
"Yes…" he said holding her cold hand.

"My leg—it really hurts," Miley's eyes started to water. Jake saw and brushed her hair again.

"Miley, they need to take an x-ray of your leg. Okay?" Jake tried to comfort.

"How's my dad?" Miley asked through tears, which were soaking the bedspread.

She sounded like a little girl, only four years old.

The truth was that Jake didn't know, but what else could he say but, "He's doing very well, Miley." Jake felt awful about lying to his helpless girlfriend and shamefully looked the other way.

Miley lifted her head up and Jake knew that she wanted a kiss. So he gave her one. A long one.

Roxy came in and sat down on the plastic chair.

"Boy, you better watch out. I'm not here to make sure you don't get into any funny business, so if you do, it's your problem," Roxy said, pulling lipstick out of her purse and smothering her lips with a bright candy-apple red.  
Jake pulled away and sat down next to Roxy. Boy did he ever feel any worse. Now they were at the hospital because of him. Because he tripped Miley. Jake's heart felt like there was a sword through it. And there was his new beautiful girlfriend, looking anorexic in the bed. Completely fragile.

Meanwhile, Miley was staring at the ceiling without blinking, causing her eyes to water. She had broken her leg. So what about Hannah? Hannah broke her leg too? She had a concert in two days. Cancel it? Just thinking about all the mumbo jumbo, Miley wanted to throw up.

A/N: Here it is. Sorry it took a while! This wasn't much of a cliffhanger, but otherwise I would've been writing forever. Reviews? The continuation of this story is in your hands.


	5. Chapter 5

Miley's POV:  
It was only my leg, but why did it hurt so much more?

_I feel so awful. What's worse is I don't even know why. My life is perfect. Right?_ Miley tried to calm herself down.

_I mean, I'm Hannah Montana. _Miley breathed in. It didn't seem to be working.

_I'm Hannah Montana. Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana… _

Regular POV:

Miley started to cry. It seemed for the millionth time that day.

What happened to the Miley that was so happy this morning to find out that Jake was back? At that time, her life seemed perfectly perfect.

And now…now life seemed…all wrong. Backwards. Upside down. Against her. How else can she put it? Her life sucked as of now.

Being Hannah Montana was so surreal for her.

It had never really had sunken in her brain as to who she really was. Until now.

_Stop crying Miley. _She bit her trembling lip as tears leaked out of her glazed-over eyes.

Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana…Teen Pop Sensation Hannah Montana…Celeb, celeb, celeb…I'm a celebrity…Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana…And I haven't even told Jake yet!

Miley closed her eyes, releasing the trapped tears in her eyes.

"Jake…" Miley whispered for him.

Jake POV:  
I heard Miley whisper my name and I for some reason, I walked cautiously over to her.

I wasn't scared of her. Or was I? This strange behavior from Miley was freaking me out. Not _exactly _scared.

Oh stop it Jake, you know that you are scared.

Why did it seem like Miley was hiding something from me? Okay, well I have to cut her some slack; we just reunited this morning. A little fast? I guess so.

"Miley? What's wrong?" I whispered.

She still didn't look at me. She still stared at the ceiling as if she was blind and she couldn't seem me even if she wanted to.

She shook her head.

"Everything. I don't know—" she choked motionlessly. Her face was blank, not exhibiting any emotions I could read. I detected tears in her eyes.

What was I supposed to do?

"Miley—Look at me. Over here," I said in my softest voice.

Miley's mouth curved into a zig-zag line. You know that weird shape that your mouth forms into right before you are going to cry? Well, that's what my girlfriend's mouth looked like right when I said that.

Miley had gone from all cheery and happy with that my-life-rocks attitude to a sudden dark state that I couldn't identify. Heck, I couldn't even guess as to what she was feeling.

That's how pitiful I was for a boyfriend. Not even a guess.

"I-I—I c-c…I just…I just c-can't. I can't look at you," Miley paused a quick second, "And you don't have to ask why. It's just that my life is so screwed-up right now." Miley breathed.

"Is it because of me?" I asked nervously.

"Yes, I mean no. I mean, well…I'll tell you, but I need to say this one other thing before I do," Miley still didn't look at me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her voice became muffled.

Miley's POV:  
Was I really going to tell him? Was I really going to go through with this?

Someone pinch me! I wanted to yell.

I knew he was never going to look at me the same after finding out I was Hannah.

What a risk. But I had to do it. It would make my life so much easier. It would—right?

I was so unsure at that moment that I almost backed out, just to be safe.

"Jake…" I knew I was crying but I didn't care, "I love you. But…Jake listen. It's only been one day about since we well—re-met? I guess…and I don't want to already seem like an untrustworthy girlfriend. It's just that…I am hiding something from you. But before you say anything, let me tell you this: you aren't the only one I'm hiding things from…I'm hiding it from the world. And I don't want the world to know. Or you. But I know that to make my life better, I need to tell you."

Jake's POV:

What was she going to tell me? Yes, at the time, I was very scared. Maybe this would be a reason that we'd break up. I felt a little dizzy.

Miley inhaled deeply, "Can you help me sit up please?"

I supported her back and sat her up.

She found my hand and we held each other's. Miley's hand wasn't cold; it was sweaty, as if she were nervous.

Not a very good sign.

"Jake, promise me one thing."

"What, Miley?"  
"That you will always treat me the same and look at me the same as you did before I tell you this," Miley forced the words out of her mouth.

"I promise because I love you."

Miley looked at her blanket and then at me.

"Look, I don't know how I'm going to say this but—" she squeezed my hand, "I'm Hannah Montana," she whispered quietly so no one else would hear.

She started crying, and she rested her head on my chest. I stroked her hair and tried to calm her down, when all the while I was feeling a mixture of astonished/confused/Is-this-a-dream-? and so many others.

My girlfriend was Hannah Montana? The Hannah Montana? The girl I was holding in my arms was Hannah Montana?

"Shhh…" I whispered to her comfortingly.

She picked up her head and looked at me. Straight into my eyes.

"Do you believe me?" she said very shakily.

The truth was that I really didn't.

But then I saw Roxy in her seat at the side and I remembered instantly.

Roxy was the bodyguard for Hannah Montana!

Miley couldn't be lying.

"Yes. I believe you."

"You do?"

I French kissed her.

"Does that answer your question?"

Miley smiled mischievously and carefully lied back down again.

"If you need anything, I'll be right there," I pointed to the seats and walked over there myself.

Roxy looked at me and showed me an ear-to-ear smile.

"Boy, I was wrong. Miley loves you. And trust me, she doesn't tell anyone her secret. If she told you, then well—you must mean the whole world to her."

"I really do love her. Were you watching us?"

"Hey, Roxy loves a little love story!"

My life would've been perfect right then—but Miley's was not, and so now neither was mine.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana or these characters.

Jake's POV:

With a sigh, I clasped my hands together and looked at the ground. So all along Hannah was _Miley? _This was too much. So when I had confessed to Hannah that he liked Miley, I was confessing that he liked Miley to _Miley? _This _was _insane. Completely.

But I had to believe and help Miley right now because she needed me to. And at the moment, I felt like I should just do what she needed because that was the right thing.

Miley slept a lot throughout the next two hours or sometimes watched TV.

And I just sat on that seat, worrying. Roxy's legs were aching, she said, and as much as she cared for Miley, she needed to go home. So I was alone too.

But what still really haunted me was the way that Miley glared at the ceiling without blinking, thinking about something. Something, something, but I had no idea what. Her life, maybe. Probably.

Which I had screwed up? No, I hadn't screwed up her life, she had said. But was that really the truth? Was it my timing? Or was it something else? Was I really a bad boyfriend?

You could say that maybe I was worrying too much. But I didn't think so.

Miley's POV:

I was miserable, just lying down on a bed, staring at the ceiling. I felt like I was waiting for something, but I didn't know what for.  
I told Jake that he could leave, after realizing it was already after three o'clock, and school had already let out for the day.

But he didn't leave.

And for some reason, the first remark that popped into my head was a sarcastic _Great_. But I didn't say it aloud. Because I didn't mean it. I really didn't. Right?

I was so unsure with my life at that moment that it was crazy.

What was I supposed to do?

And then I would cry all over again.

And what do you know, _I didn't even know why. _

Jake's POV:

At around four, Miley's dad came in the room. I noticed that he was wearing a sling around one of his arms.

I could tell that he noticed me because he sort of stared at me extra long. It was a little freaky; I have to admit.

He walked casually over to Miley, who had sat up in alarm. They talked quietly for about ten minutes. I waited.

Miley's POV:

When my dad came to talk to me, I knew that I had to act like everything was fine. Actually, scratch that. Not fine, but _great. _That's what I had to make believe my life was like at that time so he wouldn't get really involved. That, I didn't want.

"Miley, how are you? Keepin' up all good?"

"Yeah. Real great. Amazing really. Couldn't be better," I fibbed terribly.

"Good, good, bud. And who's that fellow over there?" he asked interested.

"Jake. We're dating now."

"Really? Hmmm. I thought he liked the other girl?"

"They broke up a while back."

"Oh."

"Yeah. He won't leave me!"  
"Really?"

I sighed.

"Look, Dad…I told him my secret."

"Which one?"

"Dad! You know which. My _Hannah _one."

"You did? Really, Miles?"

"I did," and then I stumbled, "B-because I love him and he loves me."

"You really feel that way?"

"Of course I feel that way. Otherwise, I wouldn't have told him. So, uh, how's the arm?"  
"Not as painful as it looks. The nurse in my room kept staring at me and asking every two seconds if I needed anything. _Really _freaky."

Then he stopped talking.

"What?"

"I miss your mom."

"Me too…"

And then I turned away so he wouldn't see me cry.

He tried to pull me over.

"Miley, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just that um," I tried to wipe my eyes in a way so he wouldn't see I had cried, "Um, so…Hannah broke her leg too?"

"Well, I'll just have to cancel her concerts," he sighed, "It would be weird if Miley and Hannah would have broken legs at the same time."

"Yeah, the kids at school may suspect something. So what do we say about Hannah?"

"Maybe we can say she has a special debut movie to shoot that is in complete privacy so no one will be able to squeeze any info about it."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Okay."  
"Okay."

Yeah, you can say the conversation was awkward. Really awkward.

And then my dad _awkwardly _went over and talked to Jake. Ugh.

Jake's POV:  
I was surprised in a way when Miley's dad came over to talk to me.

"Hi, Jake. Pleasure to meet you. Miley was falling over you." I knew Miley would have been real embarrassed to hear him say that about her.

I felt really good inside though. Just knowing that Miley had really liked me the whole time I was crushing on her. It was nice to know that we had both liked each other since the beginning.

I shook his hand and said back, "Pleasure to meet you too."

"Look son, I just want you to make my daughter happy. I don't want to give you that whole long talk or whatever, but I just want you to, uh…ya' know—use your good judgment and common sense. That's all I'm asking."

He stood up and smiled at me, and I grinned back.

And then he left.

But then Miley got a visit from some more people.

"Lilly! Oliver!" I heard Miley shriek excitedly. I looked up to see my girlfriend's arms stretched out towards her two best friends standing beside her bed, Lilly holding an elaborate bouquet of colorful flowers.

Miley's POV:  
I was so thrilled when I saw my two best friends standing next to my bed that I thought my head would explode.

"We brought you flowers," Lilly said, pushing an assortment of flowers into my arms.

"Wow! Thanks guys." I hugged them both.

"So, what happened? How did you break your leg? Are you okay? There were all these rumors at school today. Amber and Ashley were devastated that Jake was absent on the day that he was supposed to come back. Do you know where he is? I can't believe all of the rumors. One girl in math said his flight got delayed. Some said he went home with_ a girl_—" Oliver went on. I interrupted but for a relative reason.

My voice shook like worse than an earthquake.

"He's right over there." I pointed over to Jake.

"Huh?" Lilly's eyes widened, "He's _here? With you?" _

"Yeah…Guys, he's…he's my boyfriend now." I said, looking down at my hands.

"That's great!" Lilly exclaimed. Then she paused. "How?"

"Well, to answer Oliver's question…Jake was the one that tripped me. But it was an accident! So please don't go accusing him. I-It was all and completely absolutely my fault. I-I was running through the halls when I shouldn't have. And…yeah. I fell over his foot basically. I know. _Mega _embarrassing."

"Ouch," Oliver commented and made a sour face, "Hurts reputation."

I sighed, "I know. Ugh."

"Well?" Lilly asked, "What did he do _after _he tripped you? Wouldn't want to be _him._"

"Well, oh gosh, he actually _picked me up_. And he carried me to the nurse's."

"_No way!" _Lilly shouted in disbelief.

"Shh, don't yell, he can probably hear you. Yeah, he did. And then the nurse was a complete idiot so he called up Roxy and she drove us here so I could get real help."

"But does he…?"  
"Yeah. I told him…that I was…you know…. That I was Hannah," I whispered to them both.

"Wow," Oliver breathed, "That must have been a real load on you for one day."

I stared down at my hands again.

"I know." I felt tears swell in my eyes.

I felt really stupid. I was only dumbly saying _I know, I know, I know…_ I knew I could say more, but my mouth felt…_numb. _It was so weird.

"Well, anyway…" I started. It was the first time I ever wanted my friends to really leave me alone.

I was lucky that Lilly caught on.

"Hey Oliver, maybe we should go now. Let Miley rest and all—"

"Yeah—"

"Bye, Miles—"

"Yeah, bye—"

And then they too left.

I curled up in my bed under the blanket and faced the windows, with my back facing Jake.

And then I cried. I cried so much that I couldn't see at all. Not even blurs.

I felt the bedspread soaked wet with my tears but I couldn't care less.

After a few minutes, I felt a hand on my back.

"Miley, why are you crying?" I heard Jake say behind me.

I didn't answer. Because I didn't want to.

"Fine," he sighed, "But I'm just trying to help with whatever's wrong."

Jake's POV:  
"I'm sorry." I heard Miley's muffled voice in a terrified whisper.

"What?"

"I'm just…I'm just so sorry. I love you so much. I really do. No matter what I do, I love you. But, ugh…" she cried a lot more.

I didn't know what to do, so I just stroked her beautiful hair and tried to calm her.

"Jake, you can't feel pity for me. That's not going to help me. If I say this you can't—you just…maybe you can help…me," she bawled.

"I'll do my best," I whispered in her ear. I rubbed her back.

She flipped her entire body and faced me, her back to the windows. She curled up in her covers and leaned her head against the pillow. I sat on the bed next to her.

"I'm not h-happy. I'm just not," she cried.

"Maybe I can make it better."

I could see that she was frustrated.

"No! _It's not that easy, Jake!_"

"Why?"

"I-It's just not."

"Miley…" I said looking into her sad blue eyes.

Before I knew what I was doing, I kissed her.

Miley's POV:

"_JAKE!" _I cried for real. New white-hot tears formed lightening-speed and sped down my face.

"_You know, a kiss doesn't fix everything!_ Maybe you think it does, but maybe you weren't thinking in the first place!"

I couldn't believe what I had just said to my boyfriend, but the words were already out of my reach and in Jake's ears. How could I take them back?

I looked down in shame.

I was afraid to look at Jake's face. But I did. He looked like he had just been punched in the stomach five trillion times. He wasn't blinking.

I felt so bad that I started to cry again. I was _pitiful_.

There was a long silence.

I bit my lip. This wasn't going to make my life any better. Just worse.

I pinched myself to see if maybe this was a dream.

No wait: not a dream. _Nightmare. _

_Maybe just by chance it's all make believe…_

No. It was reality. Unfortunately.

But I knew I had to be the one to break the silence. To show that I really cared about the situation.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I coughed painfully and massaged my throat. Gosh…

"Miley—" Jake got the chance before I could but I broke him off.

"Jake, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it. I really didn't. I was the one who was not thinking. I'm the flaw." I cried into his shoulder and he put his arms around me protectively.

"No Miley. You're not a flaw. Trust me on that one. You're just _you_. And you can't change yourself."

"Why?" I whispered in his ear.

"You just can't." Jake smiled.

I laughed.

But then my face became serious, and Jake's did too.

"I don't know how to say this…"

"Miley, don't be so unsure of yourself. Just trust yourself and say it how you think you should. Have confidence."  
I didn't smile.

I was too serious about what I was going to say to smile for Jake.

"I feel like I'm _dying_. I feel duller and more helpless and pitiful every second. I feel like I'm struggling just to _breathe_. I'm deteriorating," I stuttered and cried at the same time.

"Maybe you have asthma."

"_Shut up_ if you're not going to be serious! _I'm not kidding!"_ I yelled. My eyes burned as if they were on fire and they quickly burst. Tears rushed down my face so fast it was as if gravity was working double-time.

"No, no, no, Miley. You're beautiful. You're perfect." Jake soothed, hugging me tighter.

I angrily pulled out of his embrace. Jake seemed surprised.

I wanted to run out, but because of my leg, I obviously couldn't.

I looked him straight in the eye.

"I knew you wouldn't understand. I just knew it," I choked as burning tears streamed down my stained face.

"_I shouldn't have told you my secret,_" I whispered in a small voice.

"Miley—"

"Just _shut up! _I don't want to talk you to you right now. So leave me alone. _Just leave._"

I couldn't believe that I had actually said that. Was it already over for us?

Jake stiffly stood up and paused at the door.

"Just remember: I really do love you," he said.

"_Huh? Shut up! What is that supposed to mean?! _And if you really loved me, you would _just leave._" I yelled so hard that I thought my throat was bleeding.

I coughed into my hand and drops of red blood fell into my palm.

"Miley!" Jake gasped.

"_JUST LEAVE!" _I screamed even harder. My throat hurt so much that it made my eyes water. Or was I just crying? Again…

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A/N: Ooooooooooooooooohh. Kinda a long chapter. Now you're _really _gonna want to review me! Right? Oh please oh please oh please! Don't make me get down on my knees! It means so much to me! You know how much you want people to review your stories! Thanks to all the people who reviewed last time! You know who you are! Thanks


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. But I own Brianna.

Miley's POV:  
I couldn't believe it. Soon, blood was all over my hands, and I rushed to the mini bathroom connected to my room. Thank God there was a bathroom in my room.

The pain from my leg seared into my brain and I was sure I would faint, but I didn't. I leaned over the toilet all slumped and watched blood drip from my mouth and mix with my tears in the toilet.

_Great. Just fantastic. _The toilet water grossly turned red. What was I supposed to _do? _The nurses would see. And I didn't need anyone to know.

No one would know about this. No one. What was I supposed to say to Jake? He saw me like this. He knew.

I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet, hoping it would all go down. At least something today went my way. All of the red whirled down, making me dizzy.

I leaned over the sink and cupped my hands as water shot from the faucet. I slurped it up from my hands, gargled, and spit. Red spit.

I sat on the floor, tears still on my face. How was I going to get back now? Just crawl over?

That seemed like my only choice, and I was afraid I would have to take it. Sadly…

I wasn't ready for the pain, so when I tried to lay down my leg so I could drag it, I screamed. Oh god, I hoped no one would hear.

Then I heard a voice.

"Who screamed?"

I froze. I felt my heart pounding like a hammer in my chest, my nostrils flaring, and my eyes ready to tear in frustration again. I pressed my lips together, praying to dear God.

"_Who screamed?" _the voice said again.

Chances, chances, chances.

Should I take one? A risk. To get better.  
Excuse! I could…make one up!

_Okay, Miley, use that beautiful gift God gave you. Think think think! _

I would just say that I fell when I was trying to go to the bathroom to _pee. _That would work. Simple and not farfetched.

I pulled (more like dragged) my body with my arms, and with difficulty I slid on the floor and out of the bathroom.

There was a girl sitting on the bed next to mine, looking very near my age. She was a small but tall girl with neat brown bangs and light brown hair that was so straight, it could have been cardboard and no one would notice the difference. But it was sweepy hair, and her eyes were dark brown as well.

She gasped.

"Are you alright?" she said in the same startled voice.

"Not really."

She looked speechlessly at me, and as she shook her head in shock, her wispy brown hair flew behind her.

"Let me help you," she said, and then I realized that she had a bulky white cast covering her leg from her knee down. She hopped on one foot and grabbed the crutches that were resting on the wall, and came over to me.

"Thank you so much," I said.

She outstretched her arm and I pulled on it. She helped me up.

"Take my crutches. I don't need them as much as you do because I have this stupid cast." She said, knocking her knuckles against her hard cast.

I took her crutches and hopped into my bed.

"Thanks, really," I added.

"It was nothing. I'm Brianna," she sat on her bed again, casted leg in front of her.

"I'm Miley."

"Interesting name."

"Well, I've got interesting folks."

"What happened?" Brianna asked me curiously.

"Tripped. You?"

"Car accident. But never mind, I didn't mean that. What happened as in: How did you get in the bathroom like that? You should of asked a nurse for assistance."

Oh no. She was right. What was I supposed to do now? Ugh.

"I know," I blurted stupidly.

"Then…?"  
"I-I had my boyfriend in here and he was going to help me but then he got mad at me so…he kinda left me there."

"Why did he get mad at you?"

If she only weren't so nosy, then maybe we'd be good friends…

"I got mad at him first but then he got mad at me because I was mad at him so he left me."

"Ouch."  
"I know. I feel really bad. What's worse is that now…Now I…I-I want him to be here with me," I couldn't believe I had just said that. Oh my gosh, was it true? Did I really still love him? If I did, then I would have told him at the door before he left to stay.

Tears gathered in my eyes, and I could feel Brianna watching me.

"Sorry. I get really annoying and nosy sometimes," Brianna apologized.

"It's okay. I just miss him, that's all. Can you leave me alone for a little? I don't wan to be rude but—"

"No, I completely understand. I'll stay out of your hair," Brianna reassured.

I think I still loved him. Even after all we went through earlier, I still wanted him. I loved him. I needed to fix our relationship before I had no chance at all.

I slipped between the covers and before I even the chance to cry, I fell asleep.

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Jake's POV:  
It was eight o'clock, and I knew I had to say something to Miley. We had to break up. If she was going to treat me this way, then this was just the right thing for both of us. I didn't think Miley would object. After all, she was the one, who kicked me out of her room.

I call her cell, but she didn't pick up. She was probably sleeping or something.

I decided to leave her a letter.

I had my chauffeur drive me to the hospital.

I made sure that Miley was sleeping, and then I silently crept into her room.

I didn't want to look her. I just wanted to leave the letter and go.

But it was hard. And then my head jerked toward her. I couldn't help it.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful. How could I hate her?

As a reflex, I started to stroke her soft wavy hair.

_Snap out of it Jake! You two are breaking up, and that's best for both of you! _

I took my hand away from her, dropped the letter on her bedside table, and ran out.

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Miley's POV:

I woke up the next morning with a letter next to my bed and Brianna's bed empty and made.

My heart skipped a beat when I read my name on the envelope. In Jake's handwriting.

I tore it open and I read it quickly, my heart beating loud.

It read:  
_Miley—_

_Your attitude towards me yesterday signals that we should end our relationship. I think you are a beautiful, sweet, and caring girl with a big heart, but I think that the best thing for both of us is to break up. I don't know how you are going to take this, but we just need to forget and move on. You may hate my guts right now, but in the future, you will see that this was a good decision. _

_--Jake Ryan_

Fine. If he were going to be like that, then I _would _just move on instead of wasting my time on him. But I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

A/N: Don't worry; Miley will be out of the hospital soon. I have some really interesting plans I want to get to in this story, so have a lot planned out for the future. Reviews? I you read the story, you may as well just review it!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

I felt really horrible. I couldn't even explain it. I couldn't breathe this time. For real. I found myself breathing heavily, but chest going up and down, up and down. I needed to talk to someone. Someone who'd understand. I pulled out my cell phone from my pocket and quickly speed dialed.

"Lilly? You there?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it's me, Miley."

"Oh, Lils, you will not believe what just happened."

"No, I have to tell you something too. But…you first. Is it good news or bad news?"

"B-bad."

There was a silence.

"Speak to me, Miles."

"Jake broke up with me." I said all in one breath.

"Huh? You two were more perfect than perfect. How?"

"Through _a letter. _Can you believe it? I wake up this morning and I find a letter next to my bed with my name on it. I open it up, and _BAM, _he broke up with me."

"No! I'm so sorry Miley. What happened? Deets, please."

I gulped and swallowed with difficulty.

"Lilly…I don't really want to give you any…details—for this one. S-Sorry. D-Do you understand? It's just too personal." I bit my lip.

"Yeah…I understand you Miley. If it's just too personal then…yeah, no, I completely fully understand."

I wasn't absolutely convinced, but…

"Well…Lilly, I think I still like him. He said that we should forget everything we had together. I-I don't think I can handle that, let alone our break-up. I need to get back to school and talk to him! I know he won't answer his phone if I call him," I said worriedly.

I knew that Jake would dodge me everywhere we went because of this. But I just couldn't bring myself to tell Lilly about our fight. And especially about the blood that came from my throat. I wouldn't tell her that even if she was one hundred years old and about to die.

"I don't know, Miley. We'll just have to see. Calling him is worth a shot."

"Yeah…Ooh, gotta go. Catch you later though, Lils, promise."

"Bye."

"Ciao."

I snapped closed my phone and shoved it in my pocket as a tall woman with dirty blonde hair and a white coat came in, clutching a clipboard as if it were her last weapon. Her over-painted red lips formed a cheesy smile, and I was surprised when she brought over a chair from the side and sat it down next to my bed.

"Hello, you must be Miley. I'm Dr. Estrus. Surely Dr. Jacobsen, you know, you're real doctor, told you I was going to visit?" she asked in a thick but high-pitched voice.

"Um, no, he didn't. But, uh, nice to meet you too," I said oddly shaking her large outstretched hand.

"Well, my daughter Brianna says that you were having some troubles yesterday. You did meet my daughter, correct?"

Brianna was this weirdo's _daughter?! _No way. Couldn't be. And why would she talk to me? I have no problems…

"Yes, I did."

"Well, she told me about you and since I am a psychiatrist I decided that I would visit you and see what's going on. Free of charge. Free of charge for any of Brianna's friends," Dr. Estrus smiled so that her whole faced crinkled.

Brianna had _friends? _She'd be lucky to even be friends with Donzig's dog.

"Well, sorry, but uh, _nothing's wrong_ here. Trust me. I'm all good," I exaggerated and tried to sound peppy.

"Really? Because Brianna told me that you were crying and that your boyfriend left you because you had a fight? Is that all right? And then when she went to the bathroom, she saw blood all over the toilet. Hmm? Is this the truth? Care to explain?"

My heart stopped. I couldn't blink. My teeth were clenched together so tightly that I could feel my bottom teeth sinking into my gums. There was no expression on my face. My mind was completely blank.

I opened my mouth.

"I just—I just…Well, um, about me and my boyfriend…he broke up with me. So, yeah, that part is true," it felt like there was something stuck in my throat.

"Um but that blood was because I had my—m-my period. Yeah, so…" I trailed off. I was so proud of myself! I made up an excuse that actually made sense!

"Oh, well that makes sense, about the blood, but…listen. Dr. Jacobsen told me that your leg isn't really completely broken. It's just sprained, maybe a little fracture."

"Huh?! But it hurts so much more! I'm sure it's broken," I struggled.

How could it not be broken? That pain was too strong for it only to be a sprain.

"No, no, Miley. They took an x-ray and it's not much. You'll need to wrap that leg and go on crutches for about a month, but then that's about it. My daughter, Brianna, see, she broke her femur bone in two. It's gonna take roughly four months or more to heal fully."

"So…?" I asked.

"So, Miley. I think that your injury isn't really that painful, but your emotions are. You think that your leg really hurts a million times more than it really does because you're so caught up in stressful situations and emotions. You're emotional pain mixes with the pain from your leg, but you blame the major pain on your leg."

"That's not true. I'm just sensitive."

"Yes, and sensitive perfectionist girls seem to be the ones with the most emotional troubles."

What was I supposed to say to that?

I looked down and let my hair fall over my face so she couldn't see my expression, which by the by, was sad and confused. She was right and I knew it. Yet who would admit that? Not me. _Definitely _not me.

I could deal with problems. I was an independent, responsible, and a down-to-earth girl. I was an expert at solving problems. Just, the problems I solved weren't mine…

"I'm fine, really. And besides, who wants to confess to a shrink? Then you'll go and _analyze _what problems I have. I'd much rather just talk to a friend," I knew it sounded mean, but I was in no mood to put on a goody-good girl act. Not even close to a mood like that.

"Miley, you aren't the first to tell me that. Trust me, I know that teenagers like you don't want to tell an adult stranger all of their feelings and…situations and things like of the sort. So that's why my company made a program. A special program where instead of talking to me, you talk to someone your age who most likely can help you out and understand what your going through."

"Okay…"

"So, it's either talking to me or the program. No way out Miley. I know you think I'm torturing you, but you'll thank me in the end," she assured me as if she were 100 sure that I would be "cured" at the end. Yeah right.

"Listen, doctor, if you even _are _one—You can't stomp into this room and tell me I have to do this stupid program! No one let you in!" I said, ready to stand up if I could.

Dr. Estrus put her hand over mine. Pervert.

"I talked to Dr. Jacobsen about this. He thought it was a fantastic idea. One or other, Miley."

"Fine," I mumbled, "The special program."

Great. Now I would have to participate in this stupid communication program to make your lives better.

"Great! Wonderful, Miley! The forms are in my car. Wait here, I'll be right back in a jiffy."

_In a jiffy?! _NO one says that! Weirdo.

She practically leapt from her seat and out the door, an even bigger smile stretched across her wrinkled face.

"Miley Stewart?" Dr. Jacobsen poked his head through my door.

"Yeah?" I asked nervously.

"We're going to wrap your leg now, so please get yourself in this wheelchair," he said, revealing his full body and pushing a wheelchair to me.

"Okay," I said carefully, and I cautiously sat myself in the wheelchair.

Dr. Jacobsen wheeled me out into a smaller room with gray walls and a gray plastic chair and a gray plastic waiting table thingy.

Dr. Jacobsen helped me onto the waiting table. I shifted and fidgeted around on the table, making a squeaky noise on the cheap leather, but I was too nervous to stop.

Dr. Jacobsen took out a roll of what looked sort of like white cloth and wrapped it around my leg slowly. He then propped me up on crutches.

"You're going to be using these for a while. About a month. I'll speak to your father so he'll know when he should bring you here to me again so I can check you up."

I hobbled back to my room, where Dr. Estrus was eagerly waiting for me with paper and pen in her hand.

"Here, here, fill this out," she said handing me papers and a ball-point pen.

**Full Name: **Miley Hope Stewart

**Signature: **Miley Stewart

**Age: **14

**School: **Sea View Middle School **  
****Phone #: **598-908-0976

**Email address: **Robby Ray Stewart

**Parent/Guardian signature:**

"Oh, your going to need to ask your dad to sign that last one," Dr. Estrus said, peering over my shoulder, "Bring that home and then mail it to—better yet. You go to Sea View? Well, what a small world! So does Brianna! You two will be the best of friends! Oh! Well, just give the paper to Brianna and she'll give it to me!"

_Oh great. Wonderful. Fantastic. Fabulous. How else could I put it? _

A/N: All of her phone numbers and stuff were fake just to let you know... Hope you liked it! I know it's a little boring and all right now but Miley calls Jake in the next chapter! She'll be out of the hospital soon! Promise! Reviews?

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	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:  
Finally Dr. Estrus left after she was convinced that I was definitely going to sign up and not just shove these papers in the trash (which I was going to do but then she said that she would notify my father if I did so…).

And then I knew I had to do it. Just call him up. I had to. For sake of a better life.

Regular POV:

"Hello?"

"Jake? Is that you? I-It's—It's Miley," Miley mumbled hopefully, biting her lip.

"What do you want? We're over, remember?"

"Yeah, Jake I know. But I just want to say…I'm really sorry about my mood swing yesterday. Even right now, I have no idea how that happened. That's just not me. So, if I were feeling a lot better, we'd probably be together now and still."

"Yeah, well…. You got your chance Miley. I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find someone soon though. Who wouldn't like you? You're a sweet, beautiful, and caring girl. I've talked to some of my buddies, and they think you're hot. I'll hook you up…?"

"No! I mean, sorry but no thanks. And Jake…Please don't tell anyone I'm Hannah. Please."

"Whatev."

"No seriously! You're not going to tell, are you?"

"No Miles, I won't."

"And you won't tell about that blood—that I coughed yesterday? Please don't tell, please, please."

"I won't." Jake's voice sounded bored and restless. Like he didn't have time for such foolishness.

There was a weird pause. Jake was about to hang up when he heard Miley whisper.

"Hey…Jakey?"  
"Please don't call me that now that we're done," Jake responded, an obvious tone of annoyance in his voice.

I felt like I was going to cry right there. My eyes felt glassy.

"Then uh…Hey—Jake?" I said, my voice crumbling.

"What?"

"Can we still be friends?"  
Miley heard the phone hang up on the other end.

_Oh my God…we can't even be friends…_

I hurriedly called Lilly.

"What Miley?"

"Lilly…I just called Jake and…he said that we can't even be friends. When I asked him he just—he just hung up. I feel so stupid!" I said, my forehead crinkling.

"Oh my gosh Miley! I'm so—s-so sorry. I-I don't—I don't know what t-to say."

Lilly heard me crying on the other end.

"That's okay Miley. I'll hang up."

"S-Sorry L-Lilly I just—I-I j-just can't-t get him out o-of my b-brain." I murmured through my tears.

"It's alright Miley."

I heard the receiver click.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Regular POV:

Miley went home later that day.

She couldn't get Jake out of her mind. Everything in her room somehow reminded her of him. The shirt she wore when she first kissed Jake. The picture bits she had managed to save from the autographed picture of him. Even the mound of homework Lilly had brought to her house reminded her of him.

Miley's POV:

Oh gosh, I was not ready for school.

I woke up, wanting to cuddle under the covers, but knowing I had to get out and go to school. Jake was going to be there. Probably with another girl already, thoughts of old dear me, Miley, out the window.

It was going to be tough. But I am strong right?

_Nobody's Perfect. _

The lyrics of that song ran in my mind at a too fast a pace for me to sing them. The song seemed so old, so distant and far away from me now. They seemed to mean nothing. Dull. Worn.

And there _were _perfect people.

Take Amanda, in my English class.

_She _was completely perfect. She had the perfect yellow hair, straightened _everyday_, and the smooth perfect skin lotioned _daily. _Her eyes were the color of green sea glass, wide, clear, and friendly. When she smiled at you, and talked to you, she acted and seemed like your best friend. She was always giggling and smiling. I couldn't even _imagine _her crying. She was loud yes, but hilarious. Her body was perfect as well, not too tall, not too fat, but just perfect. She was always showing off her 200-dollar outfits, which were completely in style. Being a fashion police, she never wore like _anything _twice. Or else if she did she would faint. Her family was richowning four different houses and _always _donating to charities and funds. And she had straight A's. All the teachers loved her. Well, except our science teacher, who obviously thought she was an un-special spoiled brat. Honestly, the spoiled part I have to agree with.

She would most likely, _probably _be Jake's next target. How much do you wanna bet?

I mentally sighed and my shoulders heaved.

_Life's What You Make It. _

Not that song too! I didn't even bother to ponder what those words meant to me.

I would be able to get through it. Lilly and Oliver would be there to have my back forever and always. Right? Yeah, right. That's what friends are for.

Even though Jake and I were done, I searched in my Hannah closet for something that would attract Jake's attention. Just in case. Maybe. Maybe something would happen.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone was staring at me when I got to school.

"Lilly…?" I whispered to her, glaring at all the people staring at me.

"Sorry…Word got out…I don't know how! Maybe Jake told everyone…" Lilly said, picking up her books.

I sighed. My hands got sweaty as they tightly gripped the plastic handles of my crutches.

"Hey Lilly, can you grab my books for me real quick?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh yeah! Yeah! Uh, here…What's your combo again? Sorry, I wrote it down on a slip of paper but it seemed to have..." Lilly put her books down and pulled out the junk from her jean pockets. "Sorry," she added again.

"It's okay. Um, 22, 4, 13."

Lilly bent down, opened my locker, and pulled out my math books.

"Here," she handed them to me.

"Thanks."

And then I noticed Lilly's expression. I knew that expression and I knew what it meant. I knew if I asked her what was up, she'd tell me the sky, trying to avoid the situation. So I sneakily and carefully followed her gaze to whom else but Jake Ryan.

He was leaning against the wall near the water fountain, completely surrounded by fans. They were all laughing out loud, and telling jokes. I hope they weren't making fun of me.

"Should I go up to him?" I said finally.

Lilly was taken aback that I had seen Jake too.

"N—I dunno. Your choice." Lilly mumbled.

Bravely, I hopped on my crutches over to where Jake was. Lilly looked shocked, having thought that I would quickly reject the idea of talking to Jake.

But no. I needed to talk to him.

The small crowd quieted in a snap, and they all stared at me, their eyes burning holes through me. I suddenly wished I had rejected the idea at once.

Jake crossed his arms and stood straight. He took a step forward.

"Miley. We're done." He stated promptly.

I looked at the floor. I felt stupid and humiliated, propped up on crutches in front of my ex, whom I still secretly had feelings for. I was not going to cry. I wasn't, I wasn't, I wasn't.

"Can we talk?" I barely whispered. My voice came out hoarse. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes already. He looked into my eyes and easily got caught in a trance. We connected. Finally. But then Jake just had to ruin it. He pulled away.

"I think we already have." Jake strongly said.

"No! _We _haven't! You only have! _You_ made the decision! _You_ didn't even talk to me about it! You just left a dumb letter. So now, we're face to face," I cried, color filling my face.

Jake gulped.

"Can you guys leave us alone?" he said, _his _voice shaking this time. The area quickly cleared.

"Here," Jake walked in front of me, expecting for me to follow, instead of taking my hand.

I followed him outside, onto a bench behind the school.

"No one will hear us here," he said sitting down.

I carefully sat down, leaning the stupid crutches on the side of the bench.

"I haven't moved on Jake," I whispered.  
"Well—I have."

I looked at my hands, lying in my lap.

"You don't have anything for me?" I choked. I looked up, not entirely embarrassed that tears were streaming down my face.

Jake reached up and tucked my hair behind me ear, and I felt ice-cold chills through my body. I brought my face closer to his.

"I'm so sorry, but—I still do—" I said when Jake didn't respond.

Jake's POV:  
It was like a tide trying to pull me over into the deepest ocean and drown me out of my "sane" senses. I couldn't shake the feelings and thoughts wrenching and pulling to take over my entire self. I couldn't, I shouldn't, I wouldn't let it happen. But Miley still liked me.

And that was a problem? I was the one that liked her in the first place. I think.

But was Miley trying to prove? What was she trying to show me? Because, being an actor, it was easy to tell that this was not sort of some act….Or was it really one?

My head hurt, thoughts screaming ideas in a whirlwind of helplessness.

I needed to focus.

And then before I knew what had happened, Miley had kissed me.

And it felt good. Truthfully, I didn't want it to stop.

For some strange reason, a wave of relief swept over me quickly, and the next, I was in a very deep trance of pure pleasure.

_No! Jake Ryan! You can't say that! Snap OUT of it! This instant! _I tried to act like my mother. It didn't work.

Miley's POV:

I felt so good. I felt like I needed those kisses to survive. I needed Jake more than any other fan he had in the world.

I knew it was a bad, wrong thing that I had kissed Jake. I felt terrible and guilty as we made out. And I wondered why he didn't pull away. But I didn't care. It was better if he didn't.

I didn't want our relationship to end this way.

Deep down inside me, even though it was literally established in my mind that we were broken up—still, it felt like Jake was still mine and we were still together.

A/N: for me, fanfiction still hasn't fixed it's problem so i was lucky i had a document on here that was blank. Cliffhanger! What do you think?!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. I own Amanda.

---------------------

Anonymous POV:

They were kissing. How could they suddenly be kissing? They were done! I thought that they were over with! And that they were moving on!

My hiding spot wasn't the best, and I saw Jake slightly flinch as the bush's leaves ruffled briefly. It was hard to keep still from that annoying spot.

Jake's POV:

I broke away.

I looked to see Miley, wearing the saddest face I had ever seen in my entire life.

She was frowning, and was so still it looked as if she almost wasn't breathing at all. She looked like I had…betrayed her?

I was confused.

"Miley. I'm serious. And you can't make me change my mind. It's the best thing for us. It's the safest," I said quietly, trying not to spill.

"_Safest?"_ Miley mouthed robotically.

"I-I—" I stood up, clueless with nothing to say, and ready to go to first period class.

Miley stood up and propped herself up on her crutches.

Miley's POV:

"Jake! You can't leave me like this. It isn't fair that you did this to me. You hurt my leg," I whispered in a scared voice.

Jake faced me at the door to go inside.

"Miley, what happened to your leg anyway? Is it okay?" he asked.

I shook my head and sat down with a light _thug _on the bench once more.

I pressed my lips together.

"Jake—It isn't really broken. Just…mildly fractured," I whispered embarrassed.

I looked down, and then quickly in his eyes.

"Look, Miley. I kinda—well, I knew that. I knew it wasn't broken," Jake whispered back, his voice trembling just a little.

"Huh?"

"I've broken my leg before. Trust me, I knew you didn't really break it. And I mean if you did, obviously you'd be wearing a huge cast."

"True. But it hurt so much more," I blurted.

My face turned like a sheet of white paper.

"Why?"

"Because—Because…well, my doctor made me go see a physiatrist…and she said that—that it was…It's really my emotional troubles that are bothering me and causing me pain. And that I'm blaming them on my leg," my voice sounded quaky.

Jake looked down.

There was total silence. Except for the rustling of leaves from the bushes behind us.

"O-Oh…" Jake said finally, squinting ahead into the sky as if he was trying to spot Superman.

The bell rang.

"Well—I better go," I said, stepping up and leaving.

"Yeah," Jake said and followed me in.

"Hey!"

I spun around to see a very familiar and unliked face to me—who else but the annoying, too talkative, nosy, bratty, little—

"It's Brianna! Remember me Miley? We met at the hospital!" she said, jumping up and down and screaming her sentences so loudly that it was like she were at a pep rally.

"Um…yeah," I said embarrassedly as people stared.

"Well! My mother said she needed that form! You got it?" she said over excitedly.

"Um…yeah. Lemme get it."

I turned away and pulled out the form from my bag, realizing that I hadn't asked my dad to sign. Oh _great…_

"Wait a second. I-I forgot to write something," I pulled out a pen and went to my locker. I used the wall as a desk and I sneakily forged my father's signature.

"You know that's illegal."

I looked up to see Oliver.

"Yeah—I know. But, it's an emergency. Please don't tell, Oliver."

"I won't."

"Thanks! You're the best!" I said enthusiastically, sounding a little like Brianna.

I shuffled over to where Brianna was standing, more like bouncing, and handed her the paper.

"Great! Thanks Miley! Um, before you leave, here is the email address of the person you are going to be communicating with," she bickered happily and slipped me a piece of torn paper.

I had no time to look at it just yet because the second bell rang and I hurried to my first class.

Once seated next to Lilly, I quickly opened the note. name.

Really weird.

Lilly peered over my shoulder.

"What's that?"

I speedily folded up the scrap of paper and shoved into my pocket.

"N-nothing."

Lilly bit her lip and didn't seem all that convinced. But she couldn't say anything more because Mr. Cole started to teach.

"Test tomorrow," Mr. Cole said in his monotone as everyone groaned.

I stared at the clock every minute of every class.

Finally it was lunch.

I sat down in the cafeteria, my lunch in my hands. I sat down with Lilly and Oliver.

Lilly was in space.

"Lilly?"

I followed her gaze to Jake, who was sitting next to Amanda, who was laughing and flipping her hair. Jake was smiling.

I felt my eyes burn.

"Miley, don't look—" Lilly insisted.

"No! I have to," I whispered bitterly.

Jake's POV:

I loved Miley and I needed to keep her safe. In order to keep Miley safe, I needed to stay away from her, and to keep my mind off her, I needed someone else.

Like Amanda.

She was perfect. Beautiful.

We flirted all through English, Math, and lunch.

She seemed to be flattered that I wanted to go out with her.

She accepted first thing.

"So, Jake…"

"Yeah, Amanda?"

"Weren't you just going out with that Miley girl?"

My thoughts drifted to Miley.

A beautiful image of her immediately popped up in my brain, but I shook my head to rid those old thoughts.

"What? Oh, oh, yeah. But um, no that's it, we're done so…" I trailed off and became incoherent.

"Rico's at eight?" Amanda giggled in my ear.

"What? Oh, sure…" she didn't seem to realize that my thoughts were somewhere else.

Miley's POV:

Up until, now, Amanda was a really sweet, smart, and outgoing girl who occupied the locker next to me and who I got along with. Now, she looked like an evil monster in my eyes.

"Miley—" Lilly snapped in front of my face, "Miley! Eat! Something! Lunch is almost over."

I stared down at my soggy French fries, my Mad Cow infected hamburger, and my bruised apple.

"I'm not hungry, Lilly," I muttered, bending the straw of my soda.

"No! Eat something! Jake can't just distract you like that! Eat. Come on," Lilly raised her voice anxiously.

I gulped.

"No."

"Please! Miley! You'll do this once, and then in the future, you'll be doing this everyday. He's always going to do this to you, so may as well just _eat_."

I forced the lump in my throat to go down by gulping again, but with rising difficulty.

"I don't want to."

Lilly stood up unexpectedly.

"Miley!" she yelled.

She was acting like my mom. Well, when I had one.

She sat down.

"Miley, don't go all anorexic. We need you here," Lilly said quietly, avoiding my eye contact.

"Fine," and bit my tongue.

I picked up a limping French fry, and stuffed it in my mouth.

I ate quickly, snatching glances at Jake, who was still flirting with Amanda.

"Lilly, I got to go—get my books for Health. Excuse me," I said, stiffly standing and pushing my way out of the cafeteria, completely forgetting my crutches.

When out of sight, I ran my best to the bathroom.

No one was there, and I locked myself in a stall, and fell over the toilet.

If I can't go anorexic then… 

Before I knew what I had done, I was staring at my French fries, hamburger, and apple, all chewed and mixed up like stew, funneling down the toilet. That's were they should have been from the beginning, before I had chewed it up.

I flushed a million times, and washed my hands. As I left the bathroom for Health, I popped a breath mint in my mouth.

Now for real I had to get my books.

Oh no. Amanda was retrieving her books, folded over her lock, and a huge Cheshire cat smile spread across her face. I don't think I could even try to imagine Amanda ever crying. She just wasn't that kind of person.

"Hey, Miley. Listen, I would just like to let you know that—I-I'm dating Jake know. I really hope it doesn't affect your…relationship," she said shakily.

My throat hurt again, and I swallowed.

"No, no it's okay," I lied terribly. And then—"I'm over him."

I couldn't believe I just said that.

Amanda's face brightened in an instant.

"What a relief! Okay, well, see you," she squealed happily.

Amanda's POV:  
As I was getting my books from my locker for the next period class, I saw Miley come up to her locker to get her things.

I smiled as I looked up at her.

She didn't seem to smile back.

Usually Miley was a really peppy, loud and funny girl who couldn't seem to keep still. I liked that about her. And I guess you could say that she was my friend. I guess so…

But this time her mouth was curved into a sort of a frown. Her eyes were drooping as if she were about to fall asleep standing up that very moment. Her hair wasn't all that…neat. Her forehead was crinkled. Yet her face was kind of blank yet strewn with confusion.

Miley was just one of those people that you just couldn't imagine crying. Well, now I could.

She looked…sad. And I think I knew why.

"Hey, Miley. Listen, I would just like to let you know that—I-I'm dating Jake know. I really hope it doesn't affect your…relationship," I said.

She seemed to freeze for a moment and she didn't blink even after a couple of seconds. I could see her swallowing hard.

"No, no it's okay. I'm over him," Miley tried to say casually. I wasn't all that convinced.

But I smiled anyway and said, "What a relief! Okay, well, see you."

I turned around and started off down the hall when I turned my head to Miley, who was still at her locker. But she wasn't getting her books from it; she was painfully banging her head against it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miley's POV:

When I got home, I skipped homework and immediately logged in on my email.

I needed to find out more about this girl.

What was I supposed to write? Hmmm…

_Hey!_

_I'm Not Going To Tell You My Real Name. _

_Well…_

_I just wanted to say hello…_

_And maybe we can…introduce ourselves better somehow?_

_Well, I like singing, acting, and some dancing too. I hate homework (well, really…Who likes it? Besides the nerds I mean)_

_I can't eat raspberries. They make me sick. I like cheerleading. _

_Um…_

_I like to go shopping. I like clothes. _

_-smiley&highlyhyper_

My email name hardly seemed to fit anymore.

A/N: Hey, well, a few surprises there I guess. But I have huge ones planned for the future!! I'm so excited! lol. Tell me how you liked it!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana

Lilly's POV:

"Hey Oliver…Hasn't Miley acting really weird lately?" I asked as I colored in a bubble letter on our math poster.

Oliver looked up from gluing sequins.

"Yeah…I caught her forging her dad's signature. That's really not like her at all. She asked me not to tell—Whoops…" Oliver smirked.

"She forged her dad's signature?! Miley would _never _do that! That's illegal!" I thundered as I capped the marker.

Oliver shook his head.

"I know! That's what I said, but she just went ahead and did it anyway."

I sat up on my knees.

"Yeah, and when we were in class, she had this little slip of paper that she really didn't want me to see! I wonder what that was…She hid it away immediately when she saw me looking over her shoulder…" I wondered.

"Hmm…And that incident at lunch was fishy too. Miley not eating? Those words do not fit in the same sentence together. I mean…Look at Jackson—" Oliver said, now gluing foam cut-outs.

"Wow. I wonder what's going on. Maybe…Maybe I should ask her. I'm her best friend. Yeah! I should…" I said.

Oliver sort of hummed.

"Hmm…Are you sure? Maybe she just needs her time alone for now. Maybe she needs to help her self before others should help her. She might not be ready for what advice we have to offer. She might not want it to look like she _needs _the help."

Whoa.

"Bizarre—Oliver? Why did you just sound so smart just then?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just said what I was thinking…" Oliver continued.

"Oh…Well, yeah. I think you're right. Let's give her some time on her own to figure some of this out."

Jake's POV:

As I waited for Amanda to arrive at Rico's, I found myself thinking of Miley. She kept dodging me everywhere all day, everyday. That was okay. That's how I wanted it. Well, that's how I _needed _it. For now. For her safety.

Amanda arrived, looking really pretty. She was giggling and she played with the strap on her purse.

"Hey gorgeous," I mumbled, trying to sound more enthusiastic and romantic.

Amanda blushed bright red. It was cuter when Miley blushed…

"Hey Zombie Slayer," Amanda squealed.

"So, do you want to get something to eat?" I asked, already heading over towards the bar at Rico's.

"Yeah! Sure. That'd be great!" Amanda said, calmer now.

We both walked side by side down the beach, and I knew she was expecting me to hold her hand. I did. But her hand was cold. At least, colder than Miley's always was…

There was a really awkward silence. For the first time, I noticed that the sand was really little bits of rock. And how the waves would foam, as they slowly got closer to the sand. And how the sky had layers and layers of different shades of blue, none of them even close to being the same color.

It was so quiet between us during that walk on the beach. I couldn't find anything to tell her. With Miley, words would just come out of my mouth. Simple. It was easy to talk to Miley. Conversation would just start flowing. And then we wouldn't be able to stop.

With Amanda…It was just hard to say something. Anything.

I needed to break this.

"So, what do you want to eat?" I asked hopefully.

Amanda squeezed my hand for no apparent reason.

"A hot dog's pretty good."

She turned to me, and looked me in the eye.

I smiled, and she did too, blushing again at the same time.

"Great. I'll get a hamburger, I guess."

We got to the bar. Amanda sat down at a table. I ordered to…Jackson. I had been hoping he was off for the night, but I guess not. This was going to be _really _awkward…

"Hey, Jake! What you doing here? On a date with Miley?" Jackson asked.

My face turned red. Oh god. He didn't know that Miley and me had broken up!

"Uh…Hey, Jackson. Um, Miley and I are over. I'm here with Amanda. So um, can we have a hot dog, a hamburger, and two sodas please? Thanks." My voice trembled.

Jackson looked a little shocked, but when about his job and came back with a hot dog, a hamburger, and two sodas.

"Thanks," I said as I threw him a twenty-dollar bill, "Just keep the change as a tip."

Jackson's face brightened.

I brought the food back to the table.

"Here you go…. One hot dog and soda for Princess Amanda."

Amanda giggled.

"Thank you, Prince Jake. Or, in our world, renamed to Prince Charming. It fits you perfectly," she grinned as she took a bite of her hot dog.

I smiled and watched her. It wasn't the same as watching Miley.

All of sudden, my world seemed to stop.

Amanda turned white, dropped her hot dog, and fell forward into my arms. Her eyes grossly rolled back into her skull.

What was I supposed to do? I was screaming on the inside.

"911!" I choked.

Jackson hurried over, gasped at Amanda, and quickly dialed 911.

Five or so minutes later, I was watching the ambulance board Amanda on a stretch. Jackson was standing beside me.

"Aren't you going to go with her?" Jackson gestured toward the truck.

I couldn't. It would remind me too much of Miley. I just…I wouldn't be able to stand it.

"I can't."

Jackson thought for a moment.

"Is it because of my sister?" he asked quietly as the ambulance started down the road.

I bit my tongue.

"Yeah. I wouldn't be able to stand it…" I managed to say.

Jackson placed his hands on his hips.

"Uh, do you miss her?" he asked curiously.

I looked straight ahead without blinking. My eyes started to tear.

"I do. Very much."

"Well, then why were you just here with this Amanda girl?"

"To get over her."

"But you love her!"

"I know. And she loves me but…"

"So why are you just standing her! Why aren't you with Miley?" Jackson whispered.

"I can't. I just can't. You don't understand," I whispered back as I slowly began to drag myself home.

I heard Jackson sigh deeply as I left.

Miley's POV:

Oh goody.

The emailer-person replied.

_Hey! I'm not going to tell you my real name either, so that's one thing we've got in common. _

_I like acting, hamburgers, and attention! Lol_

_So…_

_How's your life? _

_Mine stinks. My crush likes me but I don't know what to say! Lately, my crush seems really depressed or something…I'm worried, but I don't…I just don't know what to say._

_Anyway…I wasn't completely thrilled about this program, but my parents made me do it anyway. Well, we might as well make the best of it._

_I told you something happening in your life, so how about you?_

--justurordinary

Once again, that was a really weird email name. Oh well.

I replied:

_Yeah…_

_I'm not so thrilled about this program either but this lady would of hunted me down if I didn't sign up…  
Well…My friends don't understand me…My boyfriend broke up with me for another girl…He knows that I still have feelings for him…And yeah. And now I'm talking to a stranger via email. Wonderful._

_My life is perfect._

I sighed as I clicked "send".

I was surprised when I immediately got another message from her.

It said:

_So…. We're on the same boat but on different levels, I guess._

_My friends won't take me seriously. They take advantage of me for what I have._

_They don't want me; they want my stuff._

_I recently went through a break up…It was tough. And lonely._

_And I still have feelings for them too._

_(sighs)_

_And I'm trying to juggle homework and school with all of this…_

_I don't know where I'm headed._

_But it doesn't seem like a much better place._

I didn't know what to say to that answer.

So I answered simply:

_Don't worry; you're not the only one._

_I'm not going to a much better place either._

I wasn't sure if it was true or whatever, or if I should right it but—

_I'm bulimic._

I quickly clicked the send button before I could undo the message.

I wished I could, but it was obviously too late.

I sighed as I plopped down on my bed.

At that moment exactly, my cell ringed and I picked it up.

"Miley?"

"Jackson?"

"Hey…I just want to tell you…Jake was here—"

A/N: Ooh. And I've got even more planned. Quite a lot more actually. Reviews?


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

-------------------------------------------

Miley's POV:

"Jackson! What?!" I yelled desperately.

"Miley…Do you know someone named…Amanda or something? Blonde hair so yellow that she looks likes a crayon?"

"Yeah," I fumed.

I didn't realize my fists clenching.

"Well…Jake was with her here and she fainted…. The ambulance took her," I heard Jackson say each word carefully.

"O—oh," my thoughts instantly traveled to Jake, who had probably went with Amanda to the hospital, like he had gone with me.

"Listen Miley…I know what you're thinking. He didn't go with her."

Inside, I was cheering but I was still sad. About Amanda. Suddenly, she wasn't a monster. She was a poor sick person who was my friend.

"Do you think that she's okay?" I whispered in a scared small voice that wasn't mine.

"I don't know, Miley. But…It didn't look that good."

I gulped and sunk down on my bed.

"Well, um…. Thanks for calling me, Jackson. Thanks for being a good brother to me for once."

"Bye."

I closed my phone. I looked out the window into the darkening sky, and I knew what to do.

I threw the rope ladder down the side of the house, and climbed down.

It was chilly on the beach. I shivered and wrapped my thin sweatshirt closer to my body. The wind whipped my hair around and flicked at my skin. I couldn't remember it ever being so cold in Malibu.

I was too lazy to fetch a jacket, so I used the smooth sand as a blanket.

I flipped of my flip-flops and dug my toes into the ground, letting the sand cover them and let them disappear.

I sighed and pressed my lips together again.

I looked out into the dark blue ocean, the water gently climbing up the steep ramp of sand.

I scooted over and let the ripples reach my toes and wash them. The water was so cold that it sent a tingle through my body. I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them so close to my chest that it hurt.

I felt warm tears travel down my face, and a body sit next to me.

I was alarmed and screamed.

"Shhh…Don't worry Miley. It's just me," I recognized Lilly's voice.

"Hey Lilly. Sorry I didn't realize that it was just you. Thought you were…someone else."

It was quiet.

"Where you crying Miley?" Lilly's voice slightly quaked.

I didn't answer. Because I didn't want to.

I saw Lilly staring out into the vast ocean along with me. Her eyes seemed lost in the blue.

"You probably haven't heard about Amanda yet but…I'll tell you now…"

"What happened?" Lilly asked, interested.

I didn't blink.

"She…She was with Jake on a date at Rico's…Jackson saw them…He was working on his shift…And Amanda fainted and the ambulance had to come and take her to the hospital…She's really sick by the looks of it…" I trailed off, my hair still flying in the violent wind.

Lilly ran her tongue over her teeth, and looked down.

"Oh…And Jake?"

I didn't smile. A few more tears trickled down my face.

"He didn't go with her to the hospital."

"Really? I thought he would—Nevermind," muttered Lilly.

It was silent again.

"I'm sorry I've been so weird but…I miss him. He was really more to me than just a boyfriend. I told him my _secret_, for God's sake!" My voice rose to a point where I was almost screaming.

"Well…Maybe he thought…Maybe this is just the best for you two."

"No! Lilly, you're sounding like Jake! That's what he wrote to me in his break-up letter to me!"

"Sorry," Lilly said quietly in a hurt voice.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell or anything. It's just that…I'm upset. S-sorry."

I wiggled on the sand, and tried to pull my knees even closer to my chest. I poked my index finger in the sand and tried to dig a mini hole.

Lilly exclaimed, "What's today a Friday, right? Well, it's only about 8:35, so what do you say we go to the mall? Come on! You still have those gift cards I gave you for your birthday, right? Come on!" Lilly pulled at my arm, standing up.

"Fine…I need clothes anyway…" I muttered.

We shopped for about an hour, and then we went home with about fifty full shopping bags in our hands. Naturally, Lilly slept over.

I don't know how, but Lilly was obviously tired and she fell asleep at exactly midnight. I was pretty sure that Jackson was staying over at Cooper's (yeah right), and my dad was always fast asleep by nine, even on the weekends.

I tiptoed down into our kitchen and greedily grabbed everything insight.

Waffles, apple strudel, cold pasta, quiche, microwave pizza, broccoli, potato chips, pretzels, even eggplant. You name it; I ate it all.

I stuffed my face for an hour, and I ate so much that I couldn't even stand up.

My stomach felt so tight that I could barely breathe.

I fished through the refrigerator, and pulled out a liter bottle of Coke. I drank it all straight from the bottle, and leaned over the sink.

I stuck my fingers in the back of my mouth, so far down that my whole fist was in my mouth. Once, again, I watched all the food swirl down.

I cleaned everything really well, even sprayed the sink with Lysol or whatever, and trekked to my room to bed.

I was so exhausted, that I fell asleep instantly.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Miley! Wake up!"

Lilly was peering into my eyes.

"You never take this long to wake up! You're always the first one! Are you okay?" Lilly asked suspiciously.

I sat up.

"What? What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just extra tired."

Lilly sat down next to me.

"Okay. But it's weird…. You've never slept until noon before…" Lilly paused as she thought.

"Noon?! It's already noon? Geez, I was like Sleeping Beauty or something."

"Pff, you were. Anyway, I want to go to the beach. I promised Oliver that I'd meet him there."

"Sure," I mumbled unenthusiastically with my eyes closed.

We both hopped off the bed and strapped on bikinis with halter-tops and shorts on top.

Oliver was sipping a soda at a table when we got to the beach.

"Hey, Oliver," Lilly said for me and herself.

"Hey, Lilly and Miley."

"Hey Lilly, do you want to go catch some waves with me? The waves are really good today and I got a new board so—" Lilly and Oliver disappeared down the beach before even telling me where they were going.

I saw Jake over at the sand, same place as where I was the night before.

I could tell that he was thinking. He was motionless as he looked out into the beautiful blue ocean.

I sat down quietly next to him. I didn't say anything. Neither did he.

We sat there like that for five long silent minutes. It was still cold and windy, like the night before, and I was wishing I hadn't just worn shorts and a halter-top. The wind nipped at my ice-cold cheeks.

"Miley," Jake finally whispered.

"Yeah," I breathed, as if to say, _"I'm here!"_

"Amanda…" he started painfully.

"Yeah…I know. My brother told me."

Jake seemed to freeze completely. And obviously not because of the cold.

He still didn't look at me.

"What exactly did he tell you?" Jake asked, his voice quivering for some reason.

"That Amanda fainted while she was on a date with you and that the ambulance took her to the hospital," I answered, running my fingers through the soft grainy sand.

Jake swallowed, "That's it?"

"Yeah. That's all he said. Why?"

Jake looked at his knees.

"Oh. N-nothing."

"So…How is she?" I asked.

"Not that good…" I turned my head so I could look into his green eyes, and they were tearing up. I wanted to kiss him so bad, but I didn't know how I would be able to.

"Oh…" I said sitting back down firmly into my previous position.

It was quiet, and the only sound heard was the calming rippling noise of the waves.

"Where're your crutches?" he asked the ocean.

I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't using them. I still had my leg wrapped though, and a little limp. But that was all.

"I don't really need them," I whispered breathlessly and a bit embarrassed.

We both just foolishly sat there, side-by-side, gazing absentmindedly into the sea, sky, and sun.

I felt really bad for Jake. I mean, he was probably thinking that Amanda fainting was his fault. But it wasn't. It was just bad timing. God, what guilt he must be carrying in his head. Poor Jake. I knew that I would be killing myself if this had happened to me. I wouldn't be able to stand the thought that I would be guilty for risking someone's life. Especially someone that was your friend. Or I guess in Jake's case, girlfriend?

I mentally sighed. I was so cold that goose bumps erupted on my bare arms. I rubbed them slowly to try and warm them up.

"You cold, Miley?" Jake asked me, finally facing me. I looked into his deep green eyes, and expected to see his famous smile displayed across his face. But no smile was there.

I wanted to say yes, but my lips seemed to be cemented shut. So I just sat there silently, looking intently into his eyes and looking like a fool.

"Here," he said quietly. He reached out and his arms swallowed me into a huge hug. His fleece sweatshirt was so warm. I wanted to stay there and like that forever—and not because of the fleece sweatshirt. Just to be there with Jake. I wasn't sure how long we were like that, his arms around me and my head buried into his chest.

For some reason, I got the feeling that Jake didn't want to leave this position either. I felt his breath on my face as we both looked out into the wide sea of pure blue nothingness.

I wanted to be with Jake so badly. No one knew how badly I wanted to be with Jake again. Well, maybe my diary. I wanted to take back all the horrible or offending things I had ever said or done to him. I wanted him to be there for me, always. And I wanted to be there for Jake whenever too, always. But at the looks of it, that would never happen. Amanda would surely get better, and it'd be Amanda and Jake together forever and for eternity. I was easily pushed out of the picture. And that was not exactly what I wanted.

The thought of me completely out of Jake's life brought tears to my eyes. They fell down my face. I didn't want to cry in front of Jake. I didn't want him to think I was a baby or something. Well, I wasn't facing him anyway.

But then Jake sort of shook me a little and softly asked in what I thought was a concerned voice, "Miles? Are you crying?"

I hesitated and glumly turned to his face.

He saw my tears. Jake looked sad. He reached up and in a swift movement, wiped the tears away from my face.

"Shh, don't cry Miley." I looked forward into the ocean again. Jake squeezed me lightly and rocked me back and forth. I closed my eyes, letting many more tears slide down my face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as carefully as he could.

Should I say it? Should I just dive into the unknown waters? Should I take the risk?

I pressed my lips together nervously and answered bravely, "I miss you, Jake."

Jake's POV:  
Oh my god. Miley had just said that she had missed me. And I missed her. So what was I doing with the Amanda thing? Oh, right. To keep Miley safe. That was it. I knew that we would get to the point where Miley would really want to know what I meant by "keeping her safe". I was dreading that moment and tried to avoid it whenever possible. But I knew she'd ask and that I'd eventually have to answer.

I didn't want to move from our position. I loved the fact that Miley was in my arms.

And before I had known what, I blurted, "I really miss you too, Miley."

Uh oh. What was I supposed to say now?

I was relieved when Miley just fished around for my hand and squeezed it hard. I stroked her hair.

"Jake, if you really miss me, than what were you doing with Amanda this whole time? And dodging me? Please don't say, "to keep you safe." I don't even know what the heck that means," Miley stuttered. I absentmindedly kissed her on her forehead.

Dun dun dun. Great. Now what was I supposed to say? The dreaded moment had arrived.

A/N: Ooh! Are they going to get back together and forget abut Amanda? All in next chapter.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana or A Walk To Remember.

Jake's POV:

I breathed in again, and gently pushed Miley off my lap.

"Look," I spoke, standing up and then helping Miley up, "I can't tell you here. I'll tell you now, just not here. We need to go somewhere—private. Okay? But I promise that I'll tell you."

Miley sort of smiled and suggested, "Well, I know a sound proof place at my house…My _Hannah _closet. We could go in there…"

Whoa. Miley had a sound proof closet? What for? A closet was just a tiny little—

Whoa again. Miley pulled me by the arm into a huge closet that could almost be just a second room for her. Lucky. Me, rich Jake Ryan, and I didn't even have one of these.

"Wow," I gaped.

Miley smiled in a way that reminded me especially of Hannah Montana.

"I know. It wears out though," Miley replied casually as she plopped down onto the velvety loveseat.

I sat down next to her.

"Listen Miley…What I mean to keep you safe…I mean it that way. I don't know how to say this but…" I sputtered.

Miley cut in eagerly, "Oh trust me, it can't be bigger than my Hannah secret."

I gulped, "Uh, no. It is."

"Really?" she asked excitedly. She would be disappointed when she heard that what I had to tell her was not an exciting secret.

"No, baby. It's a serious thing."

Right when I said that, Miley's face fell like an avalanche.

"You called me baby," she whispered quietly, half to herself and half to me. I could tell that there were a million thoughts running through her mind all at once.

"See. Maybe I should just start at _that _point."

"What?" Miley softly whispered looking up from twiddling her thumbs.

"Miley, I want to be with you. Not Amanda."

Miley's eyes filled instantly with tears and I knew that she was going to cry. She took interest in twiddling her thumbs again.

"No, Miley, please don't cry—" I worried, taking her in my arms.

She rested her head on my chest like before on the beach and tears slid down her face.

"No, Jake. I just—I want to be with you too. I don't even know what to say about what happened at the hospital—It's just so confusing to me and I was so stupid—"

"No, Miley, really I was the stupid moron—I wasn't patient and I wasn't taking it seriously—I'm really so sorry. You have no idea. I just want you to be happy. Are you?"

Miley's POV:  
I gulped furiously and twiddled my thumbs. Boy, was I doing a lot of that.

"N-no. I'm a mess."

We were silent for a minute and then Jake squeezed my shoulders and kissed the top of my head.

"That's okay. My life's not perfect either," Jake admitted.

"What could possibly be wrong with you? Your Jake Ryan!" I exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What could possibly be wrong with _you? _Your Hannah Montana!" Jake mimicked back.

I bit my lip and thought for a second, then smiled at Jake. But it quickly went away as Jake continued.

"Miley, I really wanted to be with you this whole time. But there was someone else—This anonymous guy who didn't want me with you. I still have no idea who he is, but it sounded like he would kidnap or murder you if I dated you."

I was shocked, and more tears formed in my eyes.

"Jake," I whispered as I threw my arms around him. He hugged me back and held my head against his shoulder. My tears fell onto his sweatshirt and I whispered in his ear, "I don't care. All I care about is being with you. And they can't really be serious."

Jake rocked me a little and muttered back, "No. They were dead serious. They were the most threatening letters I have ever gotten in my entire life, and I've got some serious haters out there."

I shut my eyes really hard and more tears gushed from my eyes.

"Jake, I won't leave you."

"I won't leave you, beautiful."

We stayed like that for who knows how long. I didn't really care anyways.

"Miley, wait," Jake pulled away, "We need to pretend that I'm still dating Amanda so whomever this is doesn't find out okay? Look, I feel really bad about using her but—"

"I'm sure we'll tell her eventually. She'll be up and running soon out of the hospital, and we can include her in our little plan. I'm so sure that she'd understand. She's my friend," I butted in.

"Y—yeah," Jake mumbled unconvinced, "but still. Let's just please, keep this between us. Okay? This is just for the time being. I-I'll think of something else in the meantime."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Jake wrapped his arms around me again.

_Kiss me, you over-egoistic idiot! _I was screaming impatiently in my mind. But he didn't. I wanted one so bad. So badly that I could cry.

_Does he even love me anymore? _I wondered sadly.

I just held on tight to him, hoping he would never leave me. I wasn't sure how many times I had thought this, but I wanted to stay in that warm position forever.

"Do you even love me anymore?" I blurted in a terrified whisper unexpectedly, before I could stop myself.

Jake gently picked his head up for a minute and stared at me in my eyes. Straight in the eyes.

"Are you kidding me, Miles? I've loved you ever since I first saw you."

My heart fell down and out my butt.

"So you love me?" I breathed, not really believing him.

"I—love—you. Okay? No worries."

Jake reached up to my face. He scanned it quickly as if to make sure that I was really I and then he gave me a long, powerful kiss. It felt as if I was soaring through the clouds and I was on Mt. Olympus. I was so dazed that I almost forgot to kiss back, but when I did, the kiss deepened tremendously, and soon we were just making out on my sofa.

After a few minutes, as I stopped for a breath of air, I whispered, "So…we can't really—Are we like secretly dating?"

Jake framed my face with his hands and whispered back right before he kissed me again, "I guess so. And no one can know. Okay, beautiful?"

I smiled at the "beautiful" part, but asked, "I can't even tell—Lilly?"

Jake's forehead crinkled and he seemed deep in thought.

He then answered, a bit insecurely I might add, "No. I'm sorry Miley, but who knows what can happen. I know that she's your best friend and all but…I'm sorry Miles, but we just…we can't. It's a risk that I am _not _willing to take."

"Fine. I get it," I said quietly, and then kissed him quickly once more before slumping on the sofa.

"Know what do you want to do? We can't go out in public together…Maybe we can watch a movie here…" I trailed off as if I had just suddenly decided that it were a bad idea.

Jake nodded happily, "Yeah! I don't care what we do as long as I'm with you—" I blushed like a mushy freak when he said that— "What do you want to watch? Well, what do you have?"

Pulling him by the arm, I led him to the living room in the front and stood in front of the shelves with all the DVDs on them.

"Pick," I said gesturing to all the movies.

"Wow. Who's the movie maniac in your house?" Jake gasped.

"Both my dad and my brother, Jackson. Doesn't help having two of them," I shrugged, plopping onto the couch in front of the TV, "Do you want me to make some popcorn?" I offered, standing up once again.

"Oh, no, Miley, just sit there, I'll make it for you," Jake replied sweetly, and honestly not in his fake sweet tone.

Truth was, I didn't want popcorn. I was too fat to eat popcorn. What did Jake think, that I was actually skinny enough to eat _popcorn_? Crazy.

"Oh no, I don't want popcorn. I was just going to make popcorn for you."

"Oh, I didn't want popcorn, I was just going to make some for _you. _I already ate before and I'm really full, still. You?" Jake asked, selecting one DVD from the million we had.

"Oh, I ate." _Lie. _I skipped. Lunch. Okay, _and _breakfast.

"Cool, then. How about…_A Walk to Remember_?"

Whoa. Jake liked sappy sad romances? Me too!

"Sure! I've actually never seen that one, but I remember watching a preview for it."

"Oh, well even better. And you own it! Yet you never saw it! God, I love you baby," Jake chuckled to himself as he popped in the DVD.

He took the remote and sat next to me. I snuggled up next to him. He kissed the top of my head, and stretched his arm around me, pushing my body closer to his.

This is how I wanted to live. This is how I needed to live. What would I be without Jake?

"I love you, baby," Jake kept whispering in my ear, "Amanda doesn't mean anything."

And then I'd giggle and kiss him.

I was actually interested in the movie itself, and Jake was too so we did a little less of the making out part of watching a movie with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

I felt really embarrassed truthfully, but I started to cry when Jamie said that she was sick. I hadn't seen this movie before, so hadn't known that you can't watch the movie the first time without actually crying. It's like a rule.

Jake noticed me crying again. "Are you crying because of the movie, beautiful? Or is it something else?"

"Movie," I said curling up into a ball on his lap, my head on his chest, my tears staining his sweatshirt. Jake just supported my neck my keeping his hand there, and occasionally stroking my brown hair, "It's never going to happen. It's just a movie."

And just thinking about possibilities made me cry even more.

A/N: i'm not even going to say anything! If I get over 70 reviews, I'll update. If not...too bad. How'd you like it?


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

"Hey Jake?" I asked, the credits of the movie reeling down the screen, "What's the time?"

Jake pulled out his phone. "About eight," he announced.

"Really? Wow. That's a long movie," I muttered, half asleep.

"It felt shorter this time, but maybe that's just because I'm with you." I hugged him. Jake turned the TV off with one quick push of a button on the remote.

"You want to eat now?" Jake asked me.

I froze. I could feel the blood rushing. If I didn't eat…he'd think I'm weird. My heart pounded like a hammer inside my chest. I didn't know why it was such a big deal to me; all I knew was that it was, and I _had _to do it. P-pass?

"S-sure," I whispered, my voice shaking terribly.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked me, looking at me with a dazed look in his eyes.

"Oh. Yeah. Fine. I'm fine. Yep."

Jake ran his tongue over his teeth in thought, and then silently stood up and moved toward our kitchen.

"So what do you want to eat?" Jake questioned me, pulling open the refrigerator door, skimming the cans and bottles.

I stood up as well. "How about…chips and sandwiches?" I offered, picturing the crunchy potato chips and the fluffy soft bread and…ugh. I could almost _taste _it in my mouth. Right there, the crispy lettuce and the juicy tomatoes and the fresh cheese…. Heaven all in one bite. Too bad I would probably puke it up a minute later anyway, no matter how good it tasted.

"Sure. I love that. Have you ever tried putting the chips inside the sandwich? You do _not _know how good that tastes. Heaven," Jake murmured dreamily, laying whole wheat and white bread on the counter, along with American cheese and a couple of tomatoes.

I laughed, "Yeah." I took out glasses and poured in ice-cold water as Jake rinsed the lettuce in the sink.

"Here, I'll make you one. What do you want it with?" I asked Jake, already starting to slice one tomato.

"No, Miley, I'll make mine. And yours. Seriously, go lay on the sofa or something, I'll tell you when they're ready—"

"No! Jake, I want to make this for you. Please?" I pouted, wearing my puppy dog pout face.

"Fine. Tomato—" I grinned at my intelligence— "cheese, lettuce, mayo—everything. On white please."

"Sure," I said, putting the wheat bread back in the fridge—I wanted white bread too—and starting on his sandwich.

It started to get awfully quiet. All that was heard was the knocking of the knife on the cutting board, the water shooting from the faucet, and the unwrapping of plastic.

My thoughts floated over to the raw subject of Amanda. I needed to go visit her. I wouldn't tell her about, you know, that Jake and me were secretly dating but…. I was just going to give her a friendly hello, and a cheesy "Get well soon" and then I'd be out. But would Jake really care?

"Jake," I said cautiously, just wanting to get the question over with. I paused, nervously. I could feel my body shaking, and I stopped slicing. I was sure I was going to cut off my finger as I was shaking so much.

My back was to him, but I knew that he had stopped to hear me because I couldn't hear the ruffling of plastic.

"What?" Jake softly half-whispered.

I inhaled and asked slowly, "Would you mind if I visited Amanda in the hospital? I wouldn't tell her about us or anything—it's just going to be a friendly gesture. I promise, I'm just going to say hello, tell her to get better, and walk right out the door. Promise."

I waited in suspense. My heart seemed to have stopped beating, and the room was still.

Out of the blue, I felt a pair of long arms wrap around me from behind.

"No, you can go visit. I trust you Miley. And you don't really have to ask for my permission like that. I'm not the boss of you. You can do what you want. You can even tell her that I am cheating on her. But if you cared for me, you wouldn't tell her," Jake whispered in my ear.

"I won't tell her," I muttered quietly, and I turned my head upward and kissed Jake deeply.

I had expected Jake to leave, but he didn't. He kept his arms around me and watched me make his sandwich. After a while, he left to finish making mine.

When we were both done, we traded sandwiches and sat down to eat them.

I was honestly surprised when I took a bite from mine.

"Wow!" I exclaimed with out really meaning to. It was amazing, "How in the world did you ever fit so much Perfect in this thing? Crazy," I took another bite of Perfect, "I'm surely going to get high with these."

"No Miley! Seriously, where did _you _learn to make sandwiches? These are pure awesomeness. I swear, I've never tasted anything like it."

"Hmmm…" I smiled.

Suddenly, Jake's phone beeped, and Jake apologized, standing up, "Sorry, Miles. Er—got to take this one." He stepped outside, phone pressed to his ear.

_Perfect. Pure Perfectness, _I thought as I ran to the bathroom. I took Jackson's toothbrush and stuck it down my throat so far that it touched that slimey part. I felt horrible, seeing Perfect getting gobbled up by Toilet. Jake's Perfect sandwich wasted. Tears sprang into my eyes, and Toilet drank them up to finish off Jake's Perfect sandwich.

This wasn't helping. This stupid barfing habit was not helping. It just made me feel worse. And better, all at the same time. First better, as you saw the food swirl down the toilet. Then worse, as you felt hungry and guilty all over again. And then finally, you'd feel much _much _worse when you'd pace all around the bathroom, thinking fast and feeling horrible and lonely.

I'd been through the drill too many times already, but I couldn't let it go, even though I knew it was bad. It was an addiction. I wanted to feel in control of something; my body was the only option available to me. So I took it. I was desperate. I'd go through so much just to feel that one minute of relief and self-control. Long-term, I knew it wasn't worth it. But it wasn't that easy to stop. Oh no. It certainly wasn't.

I collapsed down on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom, tears once again collecting in my lap and dripping down my face.

I suddenly remembered Jake. But I couldn't move. I was glued to the floor. I wept for hours it seemed, and then suddenly, after picking at the peeling glue, I was set free. I threw a mint in my mouth.

I ran to the front kitchen, only to see Jake still conferencing on the phone.

I sighed, and logged onto my email. New one from the stranger girl:

That's pretty big news. You know…that you're bulimic. You should really get some help. I once had a…friend, I guess…who was so involved and obsessed with her negative eating habits that she died. Sad, eh? You don't want that to happen to you, do you? Well, as long as we're telling secrets…well…my parents are always fighting. Both orally and physically. All of my so-called "friends" think I'm so cool…they won't when they come to my house. That's why I don't. I'm too embarrassed.

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

And clueless, I answered:  
That's really…sad. I'm sorry, but I honestly can't imagine what you're going through. My mom died a few years ago.

I bit my lip and pressed the "send" button.

After shutting off my laptop, I skipped (although not so happy) back to the kitchen.

Jake was polishing off the sandwich I had made for him. My stomach churned just looking at it. God, I was still so hungry. But I couldn't. No. Forbidden. Law.

"Who called?" I asked, trying to take my mind off the inviting sandwich bit in Jake's hands.

Jake's POV:  
I couldn't tell her that it was another threatening message from the anonymous sicko. I felt my pulse in every part of my body because I was so still.

"Oh just my manager. Sorry, urgent stuff." Miley nodded.

Miley seemed to gobble that up quick, seeing it was easily believable for her. After all, she was Hannah Montana.

We cleaned up our mess in the kitchen, sort of making out at the same time. Multi-tasking.

I checked my phone again. Almost ten already? Wow.

"Jake, do you want to go out for a walk on the beach? Promise, no one will see us. My dad's not home. He never is nowadays. Neither is Jackson. Worst, we'll put on disguises. I've got loads of wigs collected from Halloween. It's huge in my family," Miley explained, breaking away from a kiss and leaning against my chest.

"Sure." NO. I was definitely not okay with this. Surely, someone would see us.

"Great!" Miley's face looked so happy that I just couldn't resist. Miley disappeared into her room, and then appeared again with wigs for each of us. I noticed that she was wearing an over-sized hooded solid-gray sweatshirt. Strands of her brown hair still poked out from under her hood. Miley stuffed the wigs into her pocket, and excitedly pulled me by my wrist on the beach.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Miley marveled, looking up at the pitch-black sky. Stars popped out at you and they all looked like little pearls and diamonds. They twinkled.

I found that I couldn't say anything. Miley kicked off her flip-flops and leaned into me. I put my arm around her, and squeezed her. Miley laughed as she slid her toes into the frosty blue water. I laughed too, and kissed her. She kissed back with obvious delight.

"I love you," Miley giggled and kissed me again. She splashed her hands and kicked the water into mini ripples. She looked up at me and grinned proudly like a toddler who had just finished a "beautiful" drawing a.k.a. scribbles.

I smiled, but I was still worrying inside. What if the murder killed Miley? I didn't even want to think about it.

At last, after walking a while, I sat down and Miley collapsed on top of me. We both lied down on the smooth sand, peering up at the stars. I put my arm around her protectively, and Miley approvingly smiled. We were quiet. We kissed a little, stared at each other a little, and we looked at the stars. Sometimes, you don't need to talk to your girlfriend to have some sort of connection. We could just read each other's minds.

"I'm never leaving you. Ever. I just want you to know that," Miley broke the silence.

I pulled her closer to me and kissed her passionately, as if it were the last kiss I'd ever give her.

"Me either. I don't even care how mushy we are. It's not like I try to. I just love you."

Miley laughed again. We made out like that for a little and then stopped to check out the stars and point out constellations.

"There's Pegasus. See? You sort of have to connect the dots…" I explained to Miley. I expected her to giggle, but she didn't. I heard sniffles.

"Miley?" I looked at her. She tried to smile, but it was so fake and forced that it turned into a frown rather quickly. I pulled her hood off of her head. She scooped up all of her hair in a bundle and left it on one of her shoulders to sit.

"Are you ok—" I started.

"Yes! Okay? I'm fine! Quit it! Okay?" Miley hastily tried to wipe an escaping tear but her hand was trembling so furiously that it just kept riding down her cheek. I wiped it for her. She pressed her lips together and blankly looked up, trying not to cry. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and scrunched them into her fists.

Without warning, she sat up and supported herself with her arms outstretched behind her. She stared far out into the sea. The moment I sat up as well, she threw her arms around me and slipped into my embrace, fitting perfectly, like a last puzzle piece.

"Shhh…" I calmed her, stroking her hair. Miley was shaking so much and so violently in my arms that even that easy task was a challenge.

Miley's POV:  
Tears blurred my vision. My hands shook so much that I couldn't even clear them away.

I felt hidden and safe in Jake's arms. He kissed the top of my head.

"Miles? You want to talk about it?" Jake whispered into my ear.

Truth was, I did. But…maybe he was thinking the same thing? Hmm. Who knew? It was worth the shot.

I couldn't see Jake's face that entirely well because it was so dark, but I felt his lips and his eyes and I knew where he was.

"Jake, no matter how brave I may look on the outside…well, basically, I'm terrified of that murder," I whispered, ashamed. I buried my head into Jake as far as I could. His warm breath sent shivers down my neck.

"Me too, Miley. But we're in it together. He's going to have to kill me first if he wants to get to you. And if he kills you, I'll kill myself."

"No Jake! If I get killed then I want you to just live your happy life. I love you, and I don't want you to risk so much for me. It's sweet, but really," I breathed.

Jake's embrace tightened around me.

"Are you kidding? There's no reason to live if you're not living with me. I'd be miserable without you. Not what you want is it? And yeah, I would risk my life for you. I'd die for you."

"But what the hell would I do without you, Jakey? I'd be dead miserable and depressed. I need you to survive. I'd just kill myself."

Jake smiled mischievously in response, and I smiled back with a matching grin.

We suddenly started to kiss intensely. We had never kissed like this before. It was so different. But I liked it. It was so nice. Eventually, we were rolling on top of each other. It was too gross to even write down what we were doing.

I pulled away, scared.

"Jake. Can we slow down? Sorry. I'm sort of paranoid," I muttered, "But that was amazing, Jake. Different and indescribable."

Jake breathed heavily, and we sat up.

"Maybe we should leave. It's probably really late," Jake said, obviously disappointed that we'd stopped. He helped me up and escorted me to my door.

"Wow again, Jake. Thanks so much. I can really talk to you. You're so different from everyone else, and not just because you're a famous actor. You know that I'd love you no matter what, right? I don't want to jump to conclusions, and I'm definitely not breaking up with you but…. If we ever do again…just know that really, I'm never ever going to stop loving you. I know we're young, but I just can't help feeling what I'm feeling," I said in a little unprepared speech.

"Same," Jake laughed, "Love you. I'll call you, okay? Remember, we can't go in public anywhere…and don't tell a soul. I love you, Miles." He kissed me deeply before walking away into the dark night. Actually, it might have already been morning.

Okay, if Dad was there, I was in deep trouble. Get ready for the blow, Miley…

I stepped into the kitchen. I froze.

Dad was there, his hair tousled and his face worried.

He was leaning over the counter, and a fresh batch of fudge brownies was next to him.

"Wha…?" I asked speechlessly. And then sounding like Jackson, I was surprised to hear this come from my mouth, "Who died?"

"Your Aunt Betsy. She had a heart attack. She was your mother's favorite sister."

"O-oh," I said, a lump forming in my throat.

Dad didn't seem to notice what time it was. I ran into my room. I dug for my secret stash of food. I ate everything, and anything.

_Who cared how much I would gain? No one would care! And no one cared now. How could they care about this little thing if they didn't even care about bigger stuff? No one cared about me. Who was I eating well for? No one. I could pig out if I wanted. I could steal a car if I wanted. I could smoke if I wanted. I could runaway and hitchhike all over the country and no one would care._

Without thinking, I stuffed everything into my mouth. I even accidentally chewed on a sleeve of one of my shirts.

Thoughts ran through my mind like racehorses, all at once.

I could be number one on the Most Wanted list if I wanted. I could be a drug dealer if I wanted and no one would care.

I was the very last thing one everyone's minds these days. Everyone besides Jake, I mean. It was a pitiful thought just to think that only one person in the whole world cared for her. I felt so alone and insecure all of a sudden. I just wanted to scream and cry and throw a storming fit. Everything in my life was wrong.

It angered me like hell that my father didn't care I was home at one in the morning. I didn't care if I would get in trouble. I just wanted to know if my preoccupied father even had any ounce of respect for me anymore.

The new feeling of being unwanted and lonely surged through me like an electric shock and sunk in fast. I was eating so fast that I got dizzy. Tears fell on the piece of licorice I was eating, making it salty.

Usually I didn't have the heart to make myself vomit, but this time, I wanted to terribly. Worse than ever. I sprinted into my bathroom, shut the door, and surprisingly, without evening using anything, I puked all over the toilet. It just barely made it in.

Who cared if I died like that friend of the pen pal girl I emailed? No one would care. Including me.

I breathed in and out, my heart beating in my chest like a drum. My throat hurt and my eyes watered. I clutched my stomach and threw up again, and this time I aimed better.

My throat was throbbing, my head felt like a hammer was thumping against it, and my sight was poor from all the tears clogged up in my eyes.

I coughed, and blood oozed out from my mouth into the toilet. I yelled curse words aloud to no one in particular, knowing my father wouldn't hear. And if he did, he wouldn't care. What was he so busy about anyways? My father had relied on his kids. Not anymore.

It was unbelievably hard not to cry. Everything hurt. Everything. Even my hair hurt.

I leaned helplessly over the toilet, throwing up once more.

_Face the facts, Pop Teen Sensation Hannah Montana. No one likes you. No one cares. You might as well kill yourself, and no one's going to care, let alone realize. And you might as well kill yourself now seeing as that murderer is going to get you anyway. No one even likes Hannah Montana anymore. She's old and history. What do you have to live for? You're a waste of space and time and money. And you know that I'm so true._

I tried to ignore the devilish voice in the back of her head, but I couldn't. It was so true. It was. I banged my head against the hard sink, over and over again. I was so angry and lonely that I didn't even feel the pain or see the blood, red as murder.

A/N: I may do a Q & A at the end, seeing as this is sorta confusing and people have been asking things. The murderer will be revieled, promise.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

-----------

Miley's POV:

I sat there for quite a while, getting sleepy. My head rested in my hands, and were smothered in blood. I didn't feel good. My stomach gurgled.

My Aunt Betsy was dead. From a heart attack. I suddenly remembered which relative my father was talking about. She was the sweetest person I had ever met, but fatter than an elephant. Surely she would have problems.

A certain memory popped into my head. It had been the last time we'd seen her and her family. We'd moved to Malibu shortly after because of…the death of my mom. Tears poured from my eyes, and I shuddered at the memory:

My father pulled up at a brick townhouse, a patch of grass the width of a yard on either sides of a skinny sidewalk leading up to a gated front door. The house was so familiar that I could already smell the food. Or could I really? I stepped out of the car after Daddy parked. I wafted the air. It wasn't my imagination. It was real.

_Jackson rang the doorbell. The door immediately swung open by a tall bald old man with piercing green eyes, who was my grandfather. An eight year-old redheaded girl hid behind him, and I knew exactly who it was. _

"_Grandpa!" I exclaimed as I hug him before anyone else. He loved me best. And I knew it easily. I was satisfied by the look of Jackson's jealous face. _

"_Wow! Lauren! You've gotten so much—bigger!" I hesitated as I faced the freckled eight year-old. I was going to say taller, but truth was, even after one year, she wasn't at all taller. But she was bigger. Sideways. A lot chubbier than how I last saw her. You could even tell by her face. _

_On the other hand, Lauren's younger sister, Ali, had gotten _much_ taller. She was only three, and the most adorable thing in the world. Her red hair was more golden than Lauren's, and bound to turn a marigold-colored shade of blonde by the time she was six. Ali jumped up and down. I knew she didn't remember me. That was understandable. _

"_Whas you name? I'm Al-i," she said, putting some effort on her name. _

"_I'm Miley. Do you remember me, Ali? The last time I saw you, you were just a little baby. Now I see that you're a big girl! Right?" I cooed, picking her up. _

"_Yeah!" Ali clapped her hands. I could see Lauren getting jealous, so I quickly put her down._

"_Wow! Look, Carrie, its Miley!" I whirled around to see my aunt, Carrie, and Carrie's twin Betsy. Carrie, opposite her fraternal twin Betsy, was tall and athletic with short wavy blonde hair. Betsy was one of those sadly stout people who desperately needed to be on one of those shows like Biggest Loser, who honestly looked and acted like a fat tree stump. She had strawberry blonde hair, the same exact shade as Ali. Well, that was expected, as Ali was her daughter. _

"_Goodness, girl! You've gotten so tall! What grade are you in, sixth, right?" Carrie babbled._

"_Uh huh," I said rather numbly. I hated when they asked you obvious questions like this. _

"_Aren't you glad that school is almost over? One more week, right?" Carrie asked, sort of nodding her head. _

"_Yep." My mom came over and put her arm around me. A glass filled with ginger ale was in her hands. _

"_Did Miley mention that she won a talent show at her performing arts school? She won for her singing! Isn't that great?" my mother boasted proudly. She squeezed my shoulders excitedly. I blushed._

"_Seriously? Wow, Miles! That's great! What did you win?" Aunt Betsy asked, interested._

_I smiled. I'd hoped that they'd ask that question._

"_Five thousand dollars," I stated proudly, imitating my mother some._

_Both of my aunts' eyes popped out of their skulls, and Aunt Betsy nearly dropped her drink. _

"_Are you joking with me, girl? Because really, your Auntie Carrie does not like jokes like that."_

"_No. Really," I said. _

"_Good going, Miley! We all knew that you had it in you! Who knows, maybe you'll even be a famous popstar one day," Betsy smiled warmly, her face wrinkling. _

"_Yeah," I breathed dreamily, thinking of all the fame and beauty that the career would bring me. Just thinking of all the concerts, loyal fans, celebrities, parties, and CD singings…I knew that was what I wanted. An added bonus, I'd be swimming in money._

"_Mom," I turned to my mother, and pulled her away from Carrie and Betsy. _

"_What, sweetie?" _

"_I think I want to be a singer. For a career, I mean," I said nervously. My fingers sweated as I rubbed them together._

"_Did you just come up with this idea? Off the top of your head?" my mother asked, leaning in._

"_Yeah, but I know that I want to do this. I have to do this. I know that I'm meant for being a popstar. I've always loved performing."_

_My mother nodded approvingly, and laughed aloud. "You got that from your father, I'm guessing?" _

"_Probably," I laughed back. _

"_Well, Miley, if that's really what you want to be, then you should strive for that goal and be it. I'll be there supporting whatever you want to do all your life. Promise."_

"_Promise?" I asked quietly, but with a grin on my face._

"_I promise. But don't you think you're going to fast?" she rose one of her eyebrows quizzically._

"_No, mother. Did you not hear me? I know what I want."_

_I felt a hand on my back. I looked to see my Aunt Dolly. I smiled at her, and she smiled back._

"_Miley, do you know what the chances of being a popstar is? One in a million," Aunt Dolly declared._

"_I'm well aware. But I can do it. I want to be that one." I hugged my mom, and she smiled so tenderly to me that I was sure that my heart had melted. _

_I suddenly remembered Luann, but was _so _relieved to see her nowhere._

"_Alright everyone, let's sit down to eat," my grandmother announced. There was a very long table set up in their huge backyard. We all filed out back, and the food was set up self-serve style. _

_I stood in line, my mom next to Aunt Betsy and I in front of us. Aunt Carrie was behind._

"_Food looks delicious, doesn't it?" Aunt Betsy licked her lips, her eyes burning hot holes into the piece of steak she was staring greedily at. _

"_Oh yes," my mom answered, smiling as usual. I think I got that from her._

_Suddenly, Aunt Betsy screamed, and dropped her plastic plate to the ground. Her face twisted up in pain. My heart thundered. _

"_Mom! What happened?" I yelled. _

"_She's probably had a contraction," my mom said blankly, kneeling down to help Betsy stand up properly. _

"_She's pregnant?!" I asked to Carrie behind me. _

"_Yes! You didn't know?" she questioned, looking at me as if I didn't know what 1 + 1 was._

"_No! She's—" I lowered my voice, "She was too…big for me to notice." _

"_That's okay, you don't have to say it that way. Betsy knows her size. Unfortunately, she doesn't do much about it. When she was pregnant with Ali, Ali almost died because she was so premature because Betsy was so—fat. She got really scared, and knew that she couldn't cut her eating habits, so she just tried to have Ali be her last child. Lauren and Ali were enough for her anyway. But I guess David and her weren't careful enough—" Carrie sighed._

"_A-aren't you going to help her?" I choked. Betsy was doubled over in pain on the grass. My mom was sitting beside her, trying to persuade her to stand up. Even if she wanted to, she probably wouldn't have been able to. Uncle David was on the other side, holding her hand._

"_I—I'm not really good at this stuff. I know she's my twin but—I'm a disaster with this. It's just better if I stay out of it." _

"_Okay," I muttered, watching the scene. Everyone had frozen and was watching as well._

"_Get up, Elizabeth!" my mother screamed, losing her patience._

"_I can't! I'll try but I just can't!" Betsy winced._

_My mother stood and offered her hand. Betsy pulled and David pushed her back to let her stand. _

_She took small steps to her car, and my mother drove with David helping Betsy in the back. _

_Everyone at the barbecue hastily climbed into their cars and zoomed to the hospital._

_My mom helped register Betsy and calmed her down at the hospital. It was frenzy because there were so many people waiting for the birth of Betsy's child. We didn't know if it was a boy or a girl because they wanted it to be a surprise. _

_I sat next to Carrie and my father for at least two hours in the waiting room, playing checkers with Jackson across from me. _

_Lauren and Ali were watching a movie on the mini television set there. _

_The suspense was _killing _me. I wanted to see my new cousin so badly. My mom was lucky that she got to go with Betsy into the birthing room. Only my mom, Carrie, and David were allowed to go according to Betsy. Carrie _did not _want to go. So it was just my mom and David. And knowing David, he'd be shutting his eyes. _

_Finally, my mom came out of the room. I ran and hugged her._

"_What is it, what is it?!" I yelled impatiently. _

"_It's another girl named Serena! Isn't that cute?" I honestly thought that that was a _horrendous _name. _

"_Oh…yeah," I smirked casually._

"_We had to do a Caesarian section for her because…you know, of her size," my mom explained to my dad, who nodded._

"_Can I see her?" I asked excitedly. _

"_Hmm, Miley, I think we need to—well, alright sweetie. Come here."_

_She led me to any area where you had to put these visiting scrubs on and wash your hands. I washed them three times. And extra well._

_It was like having a new sister to me, not a cousin. This was such a new experience, that I would probably never get to experience for the rest of my life._

_There was Serena, in a little plastic bin with her name on it, in the front row of all the other babies. _

"_Isn't she so cute? She looks exactly like Betsy when she was a kid," my mom cooed._

_Maybe I was expecting more, but I didn't think she was cute at all. Her face was scrunched up. She looked like a prune. Her skin was bright red, and I could see her blue veins clearly. Her eyes were closed. She was curled up in a bubblegum-pink blanket, and cute little hat on her head. _

"_Can I hold her?" I asked anyway._

"_She's too fragile right now. Maybe another time."_

"_Okay."_

That's all I remembered. I wish I could remember more. Just seeing my mom's face relaxed me.

I stayed lying down on the floor, blood pooling around me from my head. Everything swirled around and I got dizzy. I closed my eyes, and promised myself that I'd open them again, just real quickly.

The door flew open and then was shut closed again, and I heard a scream.

I felt two hands grip my arms and yank me up.

_It's the murderer. Of course it's the murderer. _I thought, getting dizzy just thinking about it. My back was to them.

They picked at my head, and tried to clear away my hair.

_It's the murderer. I know it is._

My heart pounded so wildly I thought I would die just because of that.

A/N: I mispelled Ali's dialogue on purpose, because she's little so that's just how she speaks. This is a filler, but important at the same time that Miley rememebers her aunt. She was just one person close to her mom who died, so it feels to Miley that when someone her Mom loves or knew very well dies, she is getting farther and farther away from her mom.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

"Miley! What the hell?" the intruder loudly screamed in terror.

I felt dizzy. The whole room bounced from side to side in the box of my mind (A/N: don't steal.).

I vaguely saw the outline of a girl my age with blonde hair in a ponytail. I don't know what happened after, but my eyes grew so heavy that they just snapped; shut. It had been like a light switch in my brain. On, off—on, off—on, off…

Lilly's POV:  
I couldn't believe it when I first walked in Miley's bathroom. Miley was on the floor, a pool of blood around her. Her eyes were closed and I was so sure that she was dead. I screamed in horror. I knew that I needed to get her to a hospital. Fast. And the second time in, what, a month? Poor girl.

I realized that the blood was pouring from her head. I hastily cleared some of her wet hair from her scalp to see many bloody slits and pieces of torn skin. I shuddered. Tears poured from my eyes as I let Miley to the ground, where she stayed put motionlessly, eyes closed. I fumbled for my cell, which was in my blue jean pocket. It was slipping from my butterfingers as I dialed.

"O-Oliver? Meet me at Miley's house, in Miley's bathroom. Quick. It—it's an e-emergency," I said, wiping tears from my eyes, not even believing what my mouth was saying.

"What?" I just barely heard Oliver yell into the phone hysterically, but I had already closed my phone and stuffed into my pocket. I knew Oliver'd come. Of course he would. Right? We were best friends. He was a best friend to Miley too.

_Don't think about that stuff between you two, Lilly Truscott. Even though there's been so much weird tension between you two, just think of something else. Focus on Miley. She needs your right now. She's always been there for you, and there was never a time when you could pay her back. Now you can. Focus on Miley. _

It was going to be an easy job to get Miley out of the house without any one seeing. Why? Because no one was home. _Poor Miley. What a dreadful life she must live. All alone, cause there's no one home _(A/N: don't steal that phrase from me.).

I heard Oliver strike open the door in hurry. It was the first time that he wasn't late for something. He'd always been late; everywhere. Even to some of his dates.

He took one look at Miley and fell to the floor by her side. I felt jealousy surge up through my body. I didn't have enough time to think about that though. I always knew that Oliver had this teeny secret crush ever since Miley moved here about three years ago. What was I supposed to do about that?

Oliver took fistfuls of Miley's brown hair. He just sat there, frantically, not sure what his next move would be. I felt frozen from shock as well. I felt like an idiot just standing still at the door while Oliver sat oddly next to Miley.

_How did this happen?_

He looked up at me, his face wet. It was the first time I'd ever seen Oliver cry. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face was pale.

"We need to get her to the hospital," Oliver whispered.

"Yeah," I said so quietly that Oliver probably never heard. Oliver put one arm under Miley's back, and one behind her legs and yanked Miley off the red floor into his arms.

I opened all the doors for him as we made our way out of the house. It was awfully quiet.

I bit my lip. Oliver looked off into the distance. It had rained over the last hour or two, and the streets were dark and wet. The air had turned quickly sticky and humid, but I was so numb that I couldn't take off my sweatshirt. The gray sky was still muggy, and the trees dripped extra water. A single drop of water fell on my face. It easily mixed with my tears.

"How do we get to the hospital?" I whimpered finally, frightened. "I don't have a car and I can't drive yet. Neither can you."

Oliver clicked his tongue at the thought. We just stood silently at the curb. Three lost, clueless teens; one blonde and one doughnut carrying a most likely dead popstar.

_Don't think like that, Lilly. Miley's going to be okay. And I mean, really. What a headline that would make: _POPSTAR SENSATION: DEAD_. Oh yeah, that'd make a truly fantastic story. But it won't happen. It won't. Miley's a strong girl. She gets through things. She's optimistic. She's bright. She's peppy. She finds the thrill of life. The opposite of me. _

"Check her pulse."

"What?" Oliver asked. I wasn't going to wait until it was too late (A/N: don't steal that. I like that rhyme. It's mine!).

I put my index finger to the accurate part of her neck. _Beat, beat…beat, beat, beat, beat…beat…beat, beat…beat, beat, beat, beat, beat…beat…beat…beat, beat, beat…_

"It's irregular beating."

"Who're we going to call?" Oliver yelled louder than he should have.

"Maybe…" I started.

"Maybe who?" Oliver said, a hint of anger and paranoia in his voice.

"I-I—I really don't know," I whispered shamefully.

"Great," Oliver muttered sarcastically.

"You know what?"  
"What?"  
"Why can't you think of someone?"

"Why can't _you_?"

"Well, one of us needs to think of someone."

"How about you? Because I can't think right now."

"How about we take a ride from a stranger? How about that?"

"No!" Oliver said quickly, grasping Miley tighter as if she were a shield.

"Why not?"

"Because how will we look? We'll look like weirdoes—"

"We already are!"

"Shut up, Lilly!"

My eyes grew full with hot tears. It felt like he'd just socked me in the stomach. Really hard. It was quiet. But of course, not for long.

"We don't look like weirdoes, Lilly. We're not weirdoes."

"Are you joking me? You know what someone would think if they saw us like this? I mean, we're two lost and scared teens, and one of them is holding a bloody girl."

"I'm not scared, Lilly."

"You're not scared?" I gaped, "You're not _scared? _Well then what are you? Oh wait—I forgot. You're a doughnut; you've got no feelings. That's why I'm the only one with sense. You probably forgot. After all, you are a _doughnut_."

"The only reason I'm not leaving now is because I really care about Miley. If not, I'd probably just leave you right here and now with Miley, alone, lost, in the rain, and _scared._"

"You wouldn't do that, Oliver. You wouldn't," I said in a small voice.

He was quiet.

"Well, that scenario is not reality right now. _This _is reality. Wake up," I snapped in his face. He blinked blankly.

"Don't do that. I'm not stupid."

"Oh yeah, no, I know that. You're worse."

"If I'm worse, than what are you?"

"_Worst_, doughnut. See? That's why you're _a doughnut._"

"Lilly! Just _shut up _about that doughnut thing! You wouldn't like it if I called you that! You think I like it? Well, I don't! I never have! So can you please stop calling me a doughnut?! I make mistakes, okay? Just like you! So why do you call me a doughnut? Why don't I just call you a doughnut?! It's normal to make mistakes! I don't get it why you think it's so _hilarious _and so incredibly _stupid_."

I don't think I'd ever gotten screamed at like that. My heart thumped in my chest, drowning out the silence in my ears. I turned to face the street, and I stared at the tops of my shoes in quiet.

Great. Really great. Now what?

A/N: Hope you liked it. Check out Never Knew by The Rocket Summer. Catchy song. I would ask for you to review, but then less people would? I dunno.

Thanks to the following people. They reviewed the last chapter, and thank you so much. 

jagann, xJiley4evax, LovesNature, nysunsetangel, Life'sWhatYouMakeIt, ForbiddenxMelody, adorkable395, and cheetalady95.

Check out their stories too everyone!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Lilly's POV:  
"Roxy," I whispered aloud as a light bulb went off in my head.

"Huh?"

"Roxy, you moron!" I elbowed Oliver.

"Why don't you call the ambulance?"

"Why the heck did you not think of that before?" I yelled, breathless and my heart beating crazily.

"Doughnut," I muttered under my breath.

I think he heard me because Oliver then kicked me in the shins. I winced.

"Just call the ambulance."

"I don't want to."

"Well, why not?! It's a perfectly good idea."

"I don't want this all over the news. That'd be terrible."

"This already is terrible. How much worse can this get—"

"Worst."

"Shut up! It isn't funny and you think it is—"

"You're only the one making a fool out of yourself! Roxy's faster anyway!"

"Just call someone, okay?! Anyone!" Oliver shouted impatiently, breathing heavily.

I pressed my lips together, and silently dialed Roxy's number as new tears filled my eyes.

"Hello, Lilly! How you doin'?"

"Miley's hurt and we need you to pick us up so we can take her to the hospital."

"What? Again? Poor girl."

"Huh?"

"Oh never mind it, child. Where are you?"

"Her house."

"Well, please get here fast. I-I don't know if she's doing okay."

"I'll be there before you can say—Oh, too late, already here."

Roxy's dark navy car pulled up. We both silently climbed into the car, and Oliver held Miley who was curled in his lap. I was hesitant to comment about her new car.

Roxy was shocked and speechless. I knew that she didn't know what to say. I didn't think she thought it was so big. I saw her fold her lips over and concentrate on the road as tears formed in her eyes.

It was unbearable to see her like that. Roxy was such a lively person and—she seemed to have transformed so quickly. It was so awkward, and I knew I was the one that had to make the move.

"I like your new car, Roxy."

"Why, thank you."

"What happened to the old one?"

"Got it totaled."

I was surprised that Roxy was not elaborating. Her sentences were extremely short, and that was very unusual for Roxy. She generally talked so much that you would need to tape her and then play it again to take in all the information.

"How?"

"Flood." I heard Roxy give a small sniffle.

"You're car was flooded?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I asked, waiting.

"I parked it near the beach and the water was high that day."

"So…"

"So the water reached up to my car and overflowed it with water. The engine wouldn't start."

"Sorry about that," I said quietly. She didn't answer back. I focused on my hands sadly.

Oliver wasn't blinking. He was just fingering Miley's hair and poking her face as if she were officially dead and gone forever. _Don't think about that possibility, Lilly. Scratch that. It isn't a possibility. It's the future._

I wanted to smack that stupid voice in my head and die and throw away my stupid life. _Why do bad things always happen to me? It is always me. All the time and everyday._

Why, why, why are we stuck in stupid traffic? Why? Why today? Why now? Why me? Why does it have to be so awkward and quiet in this car? Doesn't anyone know anything about socializing? Is it that hard? They don't have to set the mood like this.

It was raining again. And hard. The rain pitter-pattered against the glass window, and it was so foggy out that it wouldn't have made a difference if I looked at the floor or out the window.

Oliver was in a trance, and Roxy was concentrating hard on the road, so I didn't even bother try to hide my tears. They fell fast and melted onto the rug floor of Roxy's brand new car.

I wanted to band my head against the window, but I didn't. _What's going to become of my life? What? What if Miley goes insane? What if I have to take care of her for the rest of my life in a stupid retard home? _

I hated Miley at the point. I thought she's ruin my life.

Why did she have to hurt her head anyway? Why did she? God, answer me. Answer me. I need you.

I glanced over at Oliver, who had buried his face in Miley's hair. Roxy was wailing muted on her steering wheel as she tried not to smash the new car into trees at the same time.

_Oliver needs you. Roxy needs you. _

Then I looked at Miley, whose eyes were closed peacefully, her hair sprawled all over the seat, the top of her head red, her skin pale. I hesitantly reached for her hand, and held her cold hand in mine.

_Miley needs you, God. Now. More than ever. I don't know why she did this. I don't. But I can figure it out and make it all better if _you _make her better. She needs you. Miley needs someone that can hear her, even when she can't her me. _

Oliver turned his head to mine, and stared at me. We had some sort of connection; some sort of long moment where I knew for a fact that we were thinking the same thing. I looked into his deep brown eyes, and only found sorrow. I looked away. I had enough of that. Where was Happy when you needed it?

Oliver then held Miley's other hand in his. He pursed his lips together, and shoved his face into Miley's hair again before I could see him cry.

Just seeing Oliver cry made more tears escape from my eyes. When had Roxy ever taken so long to take us some place? Sigh.

I squeezed Miley's still, cold hand. She did not squeeze back. I squeezed again. Nothing.

I tried not to start bawling again as I fished for Oliver's other hand, which was sweaty and warm. He looked surprised, and was about to take his hand away. I caught it just in time, and squeezed it. He did not draw back. He squeezed my hand back instead.

A/N: Somehow, Loliver found its way into my story!! I was trying to keep it out, as to not disturb from Jiley and the original plot but well...we'll see.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana, Cheerios, Fruit Loops, or Rice Krispies.

Lilly's POV:  
We'd finally arrived at the hospital. I don't think Roxy had ever taken so long to get some place. I think she's lost her steam after the shock.

The doctor looked horrified when we brought in Miley. His eyes bulged out of his sockets. He scared me. He seemed to bring his hands up close to himself, and back slowly away. I think he was afraid of Miley. I think that was because of the red, red blood splattered all over her clothes, and crusting her silky hair.

I didn't care. Oliver didn't care. Roxy didn't care. We just cared about Miley.

My ears really did buzz as I watched the mouth of the doctor move but didn't hear a single sound. Everything was muted. I felt blocked from the real world. My feet weren't touching ground. At least my soul wasn't on earth. I felt like I was out of my body, watching overhead and directing my movements with strings like a marionette puppet.

Nurses hurriedly plopped a rag-doll like Miley flat onto a stretcher with wheels, and no sooner rolled her away. It was a scene straight out of House. I'd seen that show so many times, and I never thought I'd see it for real; live; firsthand; front-row seat.

I buried my face in my over-sized sweatshirt as to try to shake away the scarring snapshot. Motionless. Bloody. She looked dead.

The doctor directed us to a waiting area. I think Oliver was silent because his lips weren't moving.

My head hurt, and I felt suddenly dizzy. I squinted into the bright-lighted hospital hallway. I tried to concentrate straight ahead, but my knees abruptly gave way.

"Lilly!" Oliver yelled, then softened his voice tremendously. "Are you okay?"

He bent down and pulled me up.

"Hold on to my arm."

He relocated my hand to the top of his arm.

"Whoa" slipped from my mouth as I accidentally leaned into him to save myself from collapsing again.

I was surprised when Oliver took both of his long arms and wrapped them firmly around me. He pushed my head gently into his chest, and kept his hand there. I closed my eyes.

"Here," Oliver whispered in my ear as he pulled down my hood. He gathered my hair in a bundle and released it so it lay freely on my back.

He guided me down on a hard wooden bench, and squeezed my body and stroked my hair. We stayed like that silently until he whispered sadly, "D'you think she'll be okay?"

I was silent. Oliver stopped stroking my hair.

Then, I just cried. I broke, and I cried more freely than I'd ever cried in my entire life. I dug my head violently into Oliver, but he didn't seem to care. He squeezed me, and cried into my hair. We might have cried for two seconds. Or maybe two minutes. Or two hours. I don't know, but it felt like a long time.

"Oliver…I think I got snot all over your sweatshirt," I cried.

Then—out of nowhere—Oliver laughed aloud and kissed my cheek joyously.

I laughed too. It felt good to laugh for a change. But my mind was boggled by that kiss. It had been too friendly. It was more like a "best-friend" thing. Right? Then why did I have this strong feeling of disappointment deep down? Did I want him to kiss me in a…less best friend type way?

I fell asleep with Oliver on that hard bench. But it didn't feel hard to me.

-----------------------------------------------------------

We woke up the next morning at around nine because we'd been awake for so long earlier. Oliver wasn't in his cheery mood like he'd been the previous night. He was grumpy, and dragged me to the stuffy cafeteria for food.

"What do you want, Lils?" Oliver asked me, selecting Rice Krispies.

"Cheerios. That's what you need to be. Quit being so grumpy!" I said bouncily, hoping he'd catch on.

Oliver bit his lip.

"Lilly…our best friend is on the border line of…you know. How could I possibly be cheery at a time like this? I don't want to be cheery. I don't care about cheery," Oliver said, dropping the mini container of cereal on a tray. He snatched a carton of milk and dropped that on his tray too.

He made his way to the empty cast register, and paid to a sleepy looking old woman. He saved himself two dollars.

He sat down with a heavy _thud, _and I trailed after him and sat across.

I watched him tear open the top of his Rice Krispies container, and splash 2 percent milk in it. The rice pieces floated serenely at the top.

Oliver shoved messy spoonfuls into his mouth; one dripping, greedy spoonful after another. I watched in disgust.

After about two minutes, he looked up, finally noticing me.

"Where's your food? Weren't you going to eat Cheerios?" He asked in a mouthful.

I hid my hands under the table.

"I don't want to think about cheery."

Oliver didn't smile. His face didn't even twitch.

"You told Miley yourself not to become anorexic."

"Fine."

I stormed back a minute later with Fruit Loops. No milk.

"What about milk?" Oliver said disappointedly.

"I don't want milk."

"Why?"

"Because it makes me fat. I already am fat. I don't need to get fatter."

Oliver seemed startled that I made that comment.

"What?! Lilly! You're not fat! You're perfect," Oliver said. He tried it out on his tongue again in a whisper, "You're perfect."

I went back and came back with milk.

"Skim?! Oh, come on, Lilly. Give me a break."

"I _can _just put the milk back…" I started.

"Oh, what the hell. Fine, Lilly."

We ate in silence. I didn't even finish. And then we sat there alone, avoiding each other's eyes.

I think I fell asleep, because when I woke up, there was milk all over my face.

"What?!" I screamed.

I heard Oliver laugh.

"You fell asleep and your face splashed into your leftover milk," Oliver chuckled. "I waiting until you'd wake up."

"That's so not funny!" I pouted, wiping my face with recycled napkins. "What if I did that to you?"

"I'd at least wake up if milk splattered onto my face!" Oliver boomed.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked after I'd finished wiping of my face.

"Two hours. It's around lunch time now," Oliver gestured to all the people that had filled the cafeteria.

"Oh. Well…" I picked up my tray and dumped its contents into the trash, and then piled it on top of the others.

"What did you do while I was sleeping?" I asked curiously.

"I was watching yesterday's football game on the TV there. Kept me pretty entertained. But wow, y-you…you really entertained me."

"Shut up," I nudged him with my elbow.

"Ow." We walked onto the hallway.

"Pff. Doughnut."

"Fine."

"Oh my gosh! I can call you a doughnut?" I yelled ecstatically.

"I don't care. It's not true anyway."

"Awesome! Doughnut doughnut doughnut doughnut doughnut—" My body almost died of shock when I felt Oliver's lips on mine. We kissed. Jut like that. And it was wonderful.

"Wow."

"Wow," Oliver mimicked.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Why? Did you not want me to?" he looked truthfully hurt.

"No…I liked it. I like you."

"Just like?" Oliver asked sadly. He hung his head down.

"Well, I mean, I'm not like _madly in love _with you or anything but…"

Oliver frowned.

"But—but—"

A/N: if i dont get more than 15 reviews, im quitting this story. not kidding. im very disappointed that no one's reviewing. you guys are my motivation!! come on!!!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. Unfortunately.

Lilly's POV:

"Oliver—"

"Lilly—"

"Listen—" we both spoke at the same time. We laughed awkwardly.

Oliver suddenly pulled my hand at sat me down on the bench where we'd fallen asleep earlier.

"I like you Lilly. A lot. So…will you be my girlfriend?" Oliver asked nervously.

I squeezed his hand. "Yes."  
"Great! I mean—" Oliver kissed me again. I think it was better than the first one.

"Lilly! Oliver!" I spun my head around and saw Jake. My face colored quickly with embarrassment.

"Hey, dude." Oliver said casually, but I saw his ears get red.

"Hey. Are…you two going out?" Jake asked.

"Yeah." We said in unison.

"Oh. Cool. Just…you know, wondering."

"So…uh, what are you here for?" I asked on another note, slouching back in the hard bench.

"Amanda. You heard about her, right? Yeah, well, she got really sick. She's my, um, girlfriend. Right. So I came here to…visit." I noticed Jake was sort of gulping hard and scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Oh, I didn't know, bro. Sorry about that. Must be hard," Oliver spoke up.

"Yeah, well. Why are you guys here?" Jake asked.

"M-Miley," I managed to splutter.

I looked quickly at my hands.

"Oh?" Jake suddenly sounded like an Englishman of some sort. Usually, I'd laugh, but I just couldn't. I couldn't laugh at Miley or anything. I wasn't in the mood. Tears filled my eyes once more, and I tried to shake them away.

"Yeah. She got hurt. Again," Oliver said. I could tell it hurt. Just the way he said it.

Jake's POV:  
Why the hell was Miley here?! I thought she was safe. If she weren't safe than I wouldn't have left her. I felt a huge lump in my throat.

"How?" I felt my dry mouth say.

"She bumped her head against the sink or something at her house. We're not really sure, but there was this nasty bloody gash on her head. She's unconscious."

"O-Oh. Well, I hope she's alright."

"You don't want to see her? We were going to go now," I said.

"Oh. Well, I hope she gets better and…well, I have to go see Amanda…so, I'll see you Monday. Bye," I quickly walked away confused, as my eyes started to burn. I pushed open Amanda's room door.

The whole empty room had an unsettling uncomfortable feel to it. It was _too _quiet, and everything was still. Amanda had the large white room to herself, and sun was pouring through the two windows in the back, making random bright spots of sun all over the room.

Amanda was lying motionlessly on her back on a starched-white bed. Her eyes were closed; she looked peaceful, yet her face looked troubled. Amanda's yellow hair was sprawled all over her pillow, looking stringy. An IV was inserted into her right arm, and held with a bandage. Her skin was scarily pale. I could see her blue veins through her tinged gray skin.

"Hey, Amanda," I said softly to no one in particular, quickly changing my tone. I sat down on a wooden stool next to her bed.

She was nothing like Miley. What was I doing here with Amanda? I wanted to be with Miley right away; I loved her. I wanted to make her better, to go see her, to make sure she got better. I wanted to see her and I wanted her to see me. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to do anything to make her better. I didn't care about Amanda. Who cared about Amanda? I cared about Miley. What was I doing here with Amanda? Waste of time.

How had this happened? How did Miley even get hurt?

I know that I am not always with Miley all the time, but that is because of the murder. But I love her, and I tried to protect her as much as I could. I guess I failed. But who cares now? All that matters is her safety, and now her recovery.

_I should be with Miley. She needs me more than Amanda does, and I need Miley _way _more than I'll ever need Amanda. _

But I was yanked rudely from my thoughts as Amanda's eyes gently opened. I was surprised that even her eye color had paled. Instead of being that bright cucumber shade of light green, they too were gray.

"Jake?" Amanda asked woozily.

"Yeah, it's me. I came to see how you were doing," I said softly. She reached for my hand, so I voluntarily rested my hand over hers on her white bedspread.

"Oh." Amanda said that a little too quietly, and she stared at her hand under mine.

Amanda's POV:

What was I in? What happened to my life? I was a mess. And in serious trouble.

Getting sick had _not _been part of the plan. Now what? I felt like crap. They had stuck this stupid IV thing up my arm, and I looked like my old grandmother with the stupid IV pole walking around everywhere. It hurt to do anything. My headache was like a twenty-times worse hangover. It felt like there were hammers pounding against my forehead non-stop. And my stomach was worse. It wasn't keeping any fluids of food in there. I needed a feeding tube and everything. It just hurt _really _badly. It was in knots and wouldn't stop churning. I couldn't sleep at night, so it was amazing that I even got about ten minutes of sleep before Jake just marched on in.

Jake was scared to death. I had scared the creeps out of my own boyfriend. And Miley?

It was hard to keep those two apart. The job was harder than it had seemed when I'd first thought it up.

I snapped back to reality when Jake asked, "So how are you doing?"

My head bent like a reflex to my hands, and tears filled my gray eyes. I hated looking at myself in the mirror now. I was ugly. Before this, I was so pretty, that all these famous companies would be _calling my house_ asking me to model for them. And I did. I was in like _a million _magazines. I was beautiful. I can say that as a fact. I mean, how can I not be seen as perfect and beautiful? My hair is so yellow that people ask me if I die it (I _don't)_, my eyes are celery green, my figure is perfect, and I'm rich. I'm popular. All the boys are falling all over me. And heck, look at that. Except Jake Ryan. And that's why I needed him to like me. That's why I needed to show all the other guys that even Jake Ryan wanted to go out with me. I needed him to be my boyfriend. And that's why I needed him away from Miley. That's why I pretended to be a murderer.

And now I was ashamed of myself, but there was no turning back. I started my evil plans, and now I had no choice but to follow through with them. I felt horrible about doing this, but I had to do it. I had to. I was a murderer. Murderers followed through.

"I'm not doing…so well," I choked finally.

"What do you have?" Jake asked.

"The doctors…they don't know. Th-They haven't diagnosed me. They're clueless."

"I'll pray that you get better, Amanda."

"I'll be praying along side of you."

"I know that you'll be up and in school by Monday. No doubt," Jake stated firmly.

The way that Jake said it made it sound so true. Like I _would _get better, and go back to school.

"Hug?" Jake asked. He outstretched his arms, but he looked slightly uncomfortable. I accepted, "Sure."

He wrapped his arms around me and pressed my head to his shoulder. Jake was _so _sweet. I couldn't bare to think that I was causing pain and trouble to this caring guy.

"Thanks, Jake. Thank you," I whispered.

He let me go, and I sank back under the blankets.

I didn't know what happened, but I suddenly blurted— "Are you okay, Jake?"

He sighed, frustrated, and rubbed his forehead.

"N-no, I just—" he started, "I can trust you, right? Because you can't tell anyone. Not a single soul."

"I promise I won't tell a soul."

Jake readjusted his position on the stool, and held unto the seat of it tightly as if he were on a wild roller coaster ride. He blinked a couple times before starting.

"There is this murderer that tried to separate me and Miley. I was scared, and to be safe, I broke up with Miley. I pretended that her breakdown was something that we needed to break up about. But now…I'm sorry. I know that you're my girlfriend, but I just want her to be safe. What if the murderer gets her? I want to protect her. So, I understand if you want to break up with me. I don't care if the murderer gets me at all; I just want Miley to be safe. I can't take this anymore. But I need to be with someone else to fool the murderer, whoever it might be. Can you just…pose with me, Amanda? It would mean so much to me. I'll never forget you."

How could I say no to those pleading green eyes?

"Well—" I stuttered.

A/N: I did not get how many reviews I hoped for, but I decided to just post this chapter. I've actually been building to this point for a while now, and I was almost surprised that no one ever guessed that Amanda was the murderer! Sorry it took me so long to post, but I was having troubles with the Internet. Review!!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Amanda's POV:  
"Thank you so much—" Jake blurted. He pulled me up in to another hug.

CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!?!?!?! I am posing with Jake Ryan as his girlfriend?! You'd think I'd be happy! But I'm NOT! What the hell happened with my plan?! WHAT NEXT?! I wanted to know so I could prepare for the next blow!

"Your—w-welcome," I murmured hesitantly. He pulled away, and shook his hands awkwardly before capping them over his knees.

"So…I don't care what the murder does to me. I don't care if he kills me. I need to see Miley…she's in this very hospital, and…I need to go see her—" Jake breathed and rubbed his forehead, "Oh God, thank you Amanda, really, you have no idea. Thank you; thank you so much. What do you want? How about a modeling job? I know loads and loads of people who'd be more than _thrilled _to have a beautiful girl like you—"

I actually smiled, and then _laughed. _Jake smiled his famous smile back.

"No thanks," I giggled, "I'm all good."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Jake got up to leave, and headed for the door. I didn't plan it, but at that very moment, I coughed violently. My whole body rocked forward and backward as I coughed so hard I thought my lungs would pop out. My tongue found gross slimy phlegm in my mouth, and I spit it into a napkin after coughing a few more times.

"Whoa," Jake stopped and turned around, "Hold it on there. Take it easy." He patted my back until I felt better. I snuggled under the covers, and Jake left quietly. Not before smiling to me though.

I'd been so star struck, that I'd forgotten. But now, I'd remembered. How could Jake visit Miley?! I'd been so dazed and under Jake's spell, that…oh gosh, now he was going to go visit Miley. How could this happen? Just because I was posing as his girlfriend, didn't mean I was good. And I hadn't accepted. Jake did for me. That wasn't exactly clever, was it? And you know what else, Mr. Ryan? This is the real deal. Too bad you don't know the murderer is I. And I'm _not _just some puny little freshman, okay? Freshman's can be murderers. I am more capable than you think. Beware.

Oliver's POV:  
Before Lilly and I stepped foot into Miley's room, I thought Miley'd be dead. No joke. Lilly clenched onto my arm again as we entered Miley's room. But there Miley was, not completely her giddy, optimistic self, but _alive. _That was _definitely _enough for me. If her heart was beating, and she could identify who I was, then I was happy.I suddenly had the urge to happy dance with Lilly. Or not. Forget I said that. I am _not_ a doughnut.

"Miley!" Lilly screamed laughingly as she ran over to Miley and wrapped her into a jubilant hug.

"Lilly!" Miley exclaimed. After Lilly pulled away and she saw me, Miley added cheerfully, "Oliver!" I walked over happily and hugged her in return.

Why did it feel so long since I'd seen that face? I laughed out of relief, and Miley and Lilly followed.

"So what's the damage?" I asked.

"They said…they said that it coulda been worse. That I was lucky. I had a dirty wound, but I was lucky that I got here fast enough to get it cleaned. It's clean now…by the way, do you know I got here? The doctors say I was knocked out when I got here," Miley said quietly. She fiddled with her thumbs.

"We brought you here late last night. Roxy drove us. Only God knows how long she stays up all night…" Lilly answered.

"…or maybe she's secretly a nocturnal animal?" I added randomly.

"Doughnut," Miley laughed.

"Yeah," Lilly glared at me.

I didn't say anything. Miley was alive! Heck, she could call me anything she wanted.

"Well, thanks guys," Miley said breathlessly, "How…H-How'd ya'll find me?" Miley's voice trembled awfully, and she looked quickly down. I could see tears forming her eyes.

"I found you," Lilly spoke up confidently.

"Wha—" Miley stared, bewildered, "Wha—sorry; _What_?"

"I was calling your cell, over and over, and I got scared when you didn't pick up. It—it was an emergency. And I just needed to speak to you so badly, that I didn't care that it was in the middle of the night. Somehow I knew you were awake. You always are on Friday nights. So I skated to your house, and I—I found you. Almost unconscious in your bathroom. I saw the door closed, so I called your name. You didn't answer, so I barged in. Sorry, but I was…frightened. But I was even more freaked out when I saw you on the floor like that. I called Oliver and he came over right away and we called Roxy and transported you here. We spent the night," Lilly explained complexly.

"W-wow."

"Yep," I said oddly.

It was then awkwardly silent. I knew that both Lilly and I were itching to ask the same question, and Miley was trying to think of something else to talk about so that we wouldn't bring up _that _question.

"So…Miley. How'd you get hurt in the first place?" Lilly asked, curious.

Miley's POV:  
Oh _God. _The dreaded question. Should I dodge it? Should I come clean? What? I was caught in the middle.

"I fell," I blurted. And then dangerously, I went on rambling, "Yeah, my leg was still sort of aching so I tripped over and banged my head against the sink. Yep. That's it."

"Wow. Yeah, the doctor _did _mention before we came in here that they suspiciously found scraps of porcelain deep in your gash. Wow again. Sorry, Miles. Two incidents in a…week? Wow. Wow," Oliver repeated dumbly. What a doughnut he is.

"Humph. Don't rub it in," I mumbled miserably. I didn't like the thought.

"So…are you coming back to school soon?" Lilly said on another note.

"The doctor said that I should be back for Monday. So, I'm _luckily _not missing any school."

"You think you're _lucky_ to that you won't miss school? Geez, Miles. Are you sure you're fine?" Oliver jumped.

I laughed and called him "Doughnut" again.

"Stupid. Its called _sarcasm_," Lilly elbowed him. Wow, I missed these two.

"_Sorry_," Oliver whined, rubbing his side like a sissy.

"LOL," I said aloud, talking IM.

"Don't talk IM. It's stupid," Oliver stated flatly.

"Whatever. I can talk stupid if I want to," I grinned widely.

"Sure. You can talk whatever you want. Sorry, my bad," Oliver smiled back.

"Oh!" Lilly jumped up. She felt her pocket, which was vibrating. "My mother…" Lilly explained, and rolled her eyes. "Sorry Miles. She's probably worrying about where I was all this time. BRB, kk?"

I laughed and nodded as Lilly talked IM back to me.

"I—I'll go back with Lilly. I'm so relieved, Miley. Really. I'm so glad your better. And alive," Oliver said quickly as he made his way out. I flinched at the last comment.

And then my mind shifted to Jake. Gosh. I wanted to see him _so _badly. Like crazy. Anything. Anything I'd give just to hear him speak.

So I laid back in my bed and flicked on the TV overhead. After surfing the channels for a minute, I found Zombie High re-runs, and I smiled at the Jake who couldn't see me through the screen.

And then my heart stopped when someone opened my door and walked in—just like that. Did they really think he could just _come _in? I didn't know what to do or say as my heart pounded restlessly against my chest, and I immediately turned the TV off.

I dug far under the covers and pulled them up to my neck, faced my back to them, and closed my eyes. "Go _away_!" I wanted to scream. "_Leave_!"

But I didn't. I just squeezed my eyes closed and hoped for the best.

A/N: Ooooh!! Who do you think it is? It's kinda weird having Miley's POV again. It feels like its been so long since I've written in her POV since she was knocked out. Thank you to those four reviewers that reviews me last chapter! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

I heard his giant footsteps tap against the floor, and he eventually sat down on a plastic chair. I just squeezed my eyes tight, knowing that I was only in the same position I'd been earlier that week.

_Hiding. _

"Miley?" I heard him say in his gruff voice. "You awake?"

I didn't budge or let out a peep.

"Oh." My father said after a while of no response.

"I just wanna say…I'm sorry, darlin'. I don't know where I've been these past few days. It's just been so…hectic around. With your, er—aunt and all. I'm truly, very very sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could do more, and go back and be a better father."  
He heaved a huge sigh, and I could easily visualize his shoulders going up and down.

"Miley…bud, I know that I'm not like your mother. I never will be. But I can try to fill her place. I know I can never really do that, but we'd have an even bigger hole in our lives than we already do know if I didn't even try. I know it's hard without her. I feel the pain everyday, and I'm just trying to fix things up instead of mope all over. I'm sorry if you feel that I'm not good enough, but I've got to be the best I can be because there's nothing else. It may be sad or disappointing, but it's the truth.

I haven't been doing much this week. I'll admit that. I haven't been a good father. I regret that. I need to be the best support system I can be for you and your brother. I want you to succeed and grow to be something great. We were lucky to have Hannah. Now I need to help you with that. And I will help Jackson along too, trying to get him to the best of his abilities. It just might be hard for you to understand and all right now…."

_Should you forgive him, Miley? Should you forgive your _poor, poor _father? No. Because he caused you suffering. He caused you pain; all kinds of it. Any kind out there. He made you hurt yourself. Look at you. Now. You're a mess. Secretly dating with Jake, what the heck is that?; the murderer, who is surely going to kill Jake or you in the long run; bulimia, ooh ooh, you're never gonna win that one; your father, no need for comments; oh and so many more things. Oh, and yeah? What about your failing grades? Sure to plaster a smile on your father's face, that one it will. Or are you going to forgive him? Or just keep quiet now, as he doesn't know you're awake? Tsk, tsk, tsk, Miley. Whatcha gonna do? _

I could hardly hear my father's voice as another evil voice in my head drowned his out.

_Hide?! _

I squeezed my eyes tight until tears sneaked out and slid down my face.

_You've just been hiding._

_Hiding from your problems. _

_Hiding from your life. _

_Hiding from you. _

_And what good is that going to do?_

_It ain't getting you nowhere. _

_Look around. You're still here. _

_You won't be going anywhere anytime soon._

And for some reason, the voice like laughed. Like _evilly. _

_Or ever. _

I balled up my hands into fists, and locked in my whole body tightly, all at once, as if like a shield to make the mean voice in my mind go away. My whole body shook, and I heard my father say suddenly with a jolt, "You okay Miley?"

And by instinct, I replied, "Sorry, I dunno what happened." I covered my mouth suddenly, realized I'd spoken, and then having given up, I turned around and faced him after wiping my eyes and face _good. _Real good. No way would someone see me crying now. Especially my own father. Talk about embarrassing and then _nosy. _

"Oh good. You finally turned around to talk to me." My dad didn't smile.

"How—?" I inhaled speechlessly.

"I'm your very own father. How can I not know my very own daughter? I'm not from planet Fru-Fru, you know." He didn't wink.

"That's why you made that speech," I said aloud to myself.

"_There_ you go, Miles," he said, patting me lightly on my forearm. "Forgive me?"

_Should you forgive him Miley? For what he did to you? Huh? Huh? Does he _deserve _it? Does he? Look what you've done to yourself. Was it worth it? To just forgive him now?_

So I didn't say anything. For a long time. It could have been one minute, maybe ten, but either, way it felt _really _long. Stretched.

"Okay, then. Think on it. For now. Listen…I'm gonna go to the little gift shoppe down the stairs to get a card for your aunt. You know…must send my regards and all. So…."

Then it struck me. Amanda was another one of my "problems". Sadly. But not in a big way. Jealousy. But I needed to smooth things out with her. It would make things a whole lot easier, Jake dating Amanda and all. And what a better way then…?

In no time, my father and me were wandering around the gift shoppe, and poking curiously around at different cards.

We hardly talked. It was awkward. I just walked up and down the card aisle, hands behind my back, and peering at all the cards.

After five minutes, my father tapped me on my shoulder.

"Bud, I found a card…I'm going to pay now. So, you got yours?"

I surveyed the mini display on the wall of cards before answering, "Almost done. I'll be quick."  
And then I found a nice one that was lavender and baby blue, and chose that one.

I ran up to my dad at the register, and said swiftly, "Got it."

He paid for them, and then I grabbed my card in a little plastic baggy and walked hastily back to my room.

"Bye bud. I think the doctors need to check up on you one more time, and then you can go home. I got to run though. Errands. I'll see you later, kiddo." Robbie Ray hustled out of my room after seeing I was all right and situated.

I snuggled under the warm fleece covers, and closed my eyes soundly.

_Peace. _

Ahhh...The nice voice was on.

I inhaled and exhaled easily. I tried to control my breathing as best as I could, and counted softly in my head.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. _

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. _

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10…_

Maybe if I stayed calm like this long enough all my problems would disappear.

_Yeah right. You know they won't. No matter how many times you tell yourself, you're never gonna get better. Give up already. I mean, seriously. You've screwed up too many times. It's not gonna get better. Trust me. I've seen soooooo many idiot girls like you bust their selves like this. LOL, pitiful._

I scrunched up my face again with anger. Why couldn't I get that stupid voice out of my head? No matter how many times it tried to bring me down, I still fell for it. It was a trap; it almost felt like I had no choice. Tears fell down my eyes, and I tried to sob silently, but I found myself shaking with fear and self-pity.

And then I felt two long arms weave around me, and press my head to their chest. He scooted in my bed, and pulled me on his lap, but I just didn't care. I didn't care that someone could possible see us.

We stayed like that in silence for a while, Jake just stroking my hair. It felt like we were back where we started. Sort of.

"I love you, Miley. Screw the murderer. You matter more to me," Jake whispered.

I didn't say anything. I just listened to Jake's rhythmic breathing in my ear.

"How'd you know I was here?" I asked quietly after a long time.

"I came to visit Amanda. And I saw Lilly and Oliver. And they said you were here. And I don't care if I get killed or whatever, I needed to see you."

"Jake…." I started.

"Listen, Miley. I told Amanda that we had a murderer threatening us. And…she agreed to pose with me as my girlfriend. She's helping us out. She knows I want you. I don't care how bad this makes me look in front of her, or anyone. I really don't care about that. You know I only care about you." Jake finished, his arms still around me, and still stroking my hair.

Then suddenly he stopped stroking my hair.

His heart beating next to mine seemed to halt suddenly. And because of that, mine too.

"What?" I asked him, not even really wanting to know.

"Just—it's just…. Miley—" Jake took both of his arms and squeezed me tight.

"What?" I asked impatiently again.

A/N: OMG I GOT SOOOOOOO MANY NEW READERS!!!!!!!! THANKS A BUNCH TO EVERYONE!!!!!! I hardly thought anyone would want to read this because it had so many chapters, but yay!!! I actually got more readers. Thank you to everyone!!!!!!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:  
Jake just stared silently, and replied as calmly as he could, "What the hell happened to your head?"

Oh. _That. _

"I hurt it." I said a little too simply. Why did I get such a queasy feeling of guilt suddenly?

"_Really _badly, Miles. How—how did it happen?" he asked suspiciously.

_Truth? Tell him the truth? Oh okay, then. Tell him the truth. And get into trouble. _

Maybe I had to go in between. It was a risk, but I just couldn't handle it much anymore.

"Can I tell you another time? Maybe when we are…_completely _alone?" I whimpered.

"Okay, Miley. Take all the time you want."

My kind of guy.

"Thanks, Jake. I'm glad someone understands me."

Jake sighed, and I felt his body shrink and then exhale to its normal size.

"I feel the same way about you. I know you need your time."

"Thanks. I wish I could kiss you right now," I said bitterly.

Jake laughed as he whispered to me, "Bathroom." He carefully eased me off his lap, and we both quickly ran inside the mini bathroom I got to use for myself, and we locked it.

"It was only one day away from each other, and I already missed you like hell…" I started as I romantically hung my arms around his neck.

I flattened him against the wall, and we kissed intensely, long and deep.

"Me too, Miley," Jake breathed. "Do you know when you're going back to school?"

"Probably Monday," I replied.

He kissed me again before saying, "Hey! Friday we have that, um, hiking field trip. Looking forward to that…." I had no idea if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Yeah…." I trailed off quietly, standing straight up with my hands in Jake's.

It was quiet as Jake studied my long face for some reason. He reached up and touched my cheek, and looked into my eyes. Straight into my eyes.

"Why—why do you look so sad?" he asked after a while.

"That's it…I'm not so sure." I whispered in shame, my chin quivering, and lowered my eyes as they started to water. I started to cry as Jake gripped my forearm and pulled me close to him in a hug. I tried to find out a way to leave from Jake's embrace.

Jake only hugged me tighter.

I struggled to leave. My arms flailed all over, and Jake tried hard to keep me with him.

"Jake, _please_. Let me go," I wailed. Jake was close to snatching one of my hands, but I quickly pulled away and continued. I was sure that tears were streaming down my face now.

"Miley, look at yourself. Why are you running from me? Are you hiding something? I thought you could tell me everything. Maybe you would just feel better if you told me now," Jake managed to say while he tried to catch my arms, punching the air.

What? Are you gonna die like she did, huh? Wow, setting a great example there, girl.

I let out a horrific pitiful sob out loud, and fought Jake even harder.

Jake seemed troubled, and just tried to hold me better.

You're gonna die like all the rest of 'em. Especially her.

Jake finally caught one of my wrists, and continued to try my other.

"Miley, stop this, this is crazy—" Jake said quickly. He snatched my other wrist.

Don't even act like you don't know who I'm talking about.

I shut my eyes and squeezed them so tight, that my head started to like, vibrate.

"Miley!" Jake yelled concernedly.

And then I just gave up. I balled my hands up into fists, and I hung my head low. Jake was still gripping me by my wrists. As I pitifully and slowly dropped to the floor on my knees, Jake tried to keep me up by raising up my wrists.

_And you think you're running away. You're right about one part; you _are _running. _

More tears fell down my face. I gulped back forcefully.

"Jake, let me go," I wailed sadly.

"Miley, I will never let you go. Never, ever. I will hold on to you, and protect you, and be there for you always," Jake stated.

_But you're running in the wrong direction. You're running to _it. _To the disaster. _

And then I knew I was on some sort of stupid mini strike, but I _really _couldn't handle it anymore, and I threw my self at Jake, and he just held me like that and stroked my hair.

Jake sat me down, back against the wall, and pulled me down next to him.

"Miley…I know about that thing about giving you space and all before, which I still totally go by, but…maybe right now it really is best if you told me what. Because maybe I can make it all better," Jake said softly and truthfully.

And as I looked into his fathomless green eyes, I noticed that he really _really _meant it. Like he could make it all better. Like he could make me feel better. Like he could just fix up the world. And so I believed him. I really _really _believed him.

I breathed in hard, and rested my head on Jake's shoulder as I said aloud, "Oh God Jake…" And Jake wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"I don't know where to start. I really don't know where. But…everything lately has seemed _wrong. _You know?" And then I lowered my voice and said quietly, "Maybe not."

"No. I, uh, I do know. My parents have been…fighting," Jake coughed, glassy eyed, and added, "Er, lately."

"Jake—I-I am _so _sorry. R-really, I had no idea. Are you okay?" I whispered faintly.

"No, no, I'm fine. Really," Jake assured me, although I was not convinced at all.

"Are you sure?" I asked again.

"Positive."

I would of asked again, but the way Jake had said 'Positive' sounded like it was absolutely the end of the discussion.

It was silent for a little again, but because of Jake. He just stared off, holding me tight and kissing my forehead.

"So, uh…back to you Miles. Saying that about how everything seemed wrong?" Jake said quietly after the silence.

"No. Let's talk about you maybe for a change. It's always me."

"No, Miley, you matter more. You," Jake spoke in his firm tone again, so I went on without any more doubts, trying to remember what I'd said last.

"And…even though I have you, I just feel so lonely still. Just so distant from everyone. I feel out of place; I know I'm missing out on things."

"Well, not really. You obviously knew that Oliver and Lilly were dating before I did—" Jake started casually.

"What?!" I cutoff. "They're _dating _each other? Lilly never told me! Oliver never told me! What the heck has happened to the world?"

"Calm down, Miley," Jake reassured me soothingly. "I'm sure they wanted to tell you, but maybe there was no fit time."

"When is there ever a fit time for anything? I mean, really."

"So you're mad at them?" Jake whispered.

"I guess—No, not really…but…I thought Lilly would of told me…you know. I _am _her best friend and all. We tell each other everything…well, usually…." I trailed off inaudibly.

"What do you mean _usually_?" Jake said patiently.

"It feels like I haven't talked to her in years. I just don't feel—close to her anymore like I used to. But it just feels like my life's been too…complicated, I guess. Lately. Too much to worry about." I sort of pouted.

"Am I something you worry about? Maybe you and Lilly just need a girl's night out. By your selves. Have fun. Chillax a little," Jake tried.

"I guess so…but Jake, I don't know if you understand. It's been like _hard _to have fun. And like, just to calm down takes _real _effort."

"Just try this…who knows. Maybe the help of your best friend could make you feel better."  
"And if it doesn't work?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Well, then…I guess you'll just have to come to me. I would send you to a real therapist…"

"No Jake! You can't do that to me. Please no."

"Fine, Miles. But really, in the end if nothing I try works, I'm going to discuss this with your father and see if I can send you to a therapist."

"He won't give a shit," I mumbled miserably. But it was the truth. The sad, pitiful truth.

"Miley! He's your own father. Of course he'll care."

"No, no, no, Jake. It's _not _like that. My father is too preoccupied with only God knows what to care. He hardly even puts dinner on the table anymore."

I sighed and threw my head back hard onto the tiled walls absentmindedly.

"Oh shit…." I cried as my head throbbed in pain.

"Miley!" Jake yelled.  
"Ow! I wasn't—I'm so stupid, s-sorry—" I sobbed into Jake's shoulder as I kept my hands over the gash in my head.

"Miley, just calm down." Jake wrapped both of his hands around me and pulled me so close to him that I could barely breathe.

I tried to limit my crying to silence, but it was terribly hard.

"Why is it always me?" I whispered pitifully as I cried.

"It isn't always you," Jake whispered into my ear softly.

"Yes it is, Jake! It _is_! It's _always _me, and I'm _sick _of it. _Sick_."

Jake was quiet, and so was I. Even my noisy crying had muffled to sniffles.

Tears slithered down my face.

Jake just stared blankly out the window, his eyes hardly blinking. He was obviously deep in thought.

I didn't _dare _say anything. I think it may have been ten minutes of pure silence. And then, sensing awkwardness, I started to get up, my hand still over my head.

"No, Miley! Here. Stay here with me." Jake stood up and outstretched his arms longingly.

"My head hurts," I wailed suddenly, my face twisting painfully, and throwing myself into his arms once more.

"Lemme see, Miles."

"No," I said stubbornly. "If I move my hand, it'll _kill_."

"If you get this infected, that'll _kill _you. Please, Miley. Really carefully," Jake pleaded.

"But—" I was cutoff by a truly _amazing _kiss from Jake. I felt his hand touch mine, and send tingles up through my body. And then I felt him lift it up my hand quickly.

I pulled away quickly from the kiss, and started sobbing immediately.

"I'm so sorry Jake," I cried.

I brought my hand slowly in front of my face, which was bright red. My whole world seemed to suddenly freeze. My eyes glazed over, and I started to get dizzy.

"Miley? Are—y-you okay? M-Miley?! How do you feel?" Jake shouted frightened, his voice rising.

"Not so good," I whimpered. I fell forward into Jake's arms.

"Oh Lord," I heard him whisper.

"I-I th-think I'll be—okay," I said dazedly. Everything was one blurry haze, and I felt too weak too do or say anything more.

Jake's POV:

"I don't know. Hang in there, Miley," I dragged her out of the bathroom, lifted her up very careful, and laid in her bed.

In less than ten seconds, her starched white pillow had been dyed bright red.

"Oh God," I muttered, running my hands nervously through my hair.

Miley's eyes were slowly closing. _Time bomb._

_10, 9, 8, 7…_

"Miley? Miley?" I shook her a little.

_6, 5,4,3…_

"Jake—" she managed to murmur. Her eyes fluttered open a little.

_2, 1, 0. _

And grossing me out a little, her blue eyes rolled back disgustingly inn their sockets, showing only the white part.

Too late, Dumbo.

"Miley?! I'm getting the doctor." I hastily pressed the button next to her bed, and a nurse hustled into her room. Her mouth nearly dropped to the floor when she saw Miley.

"Oh G-God—I'll get the doctor r-right away," she mumbled, and skidded down the hall, her clipboard by her side.

The doctor came running after her, and he muttered something under his breath as well.

"She—she just—" I stammered.

"We've got no time for explanation exactly right now, son. So little time," the doctor mumbled miserably again, fussing with his tools and things.

"What are you going to do?" I asked worriedly.

"Operation. There's no need to knock her out, as she already is." And then he and a bunch of other nurses and doctors gripped the sides of Miley's bed and started to wheel her away.

"Can I come?" I whimpered hopefully, following closely behind.

"I'm afraid not," one nurse said, and put on an apologetic face.

"Save it," I muttered.

I started to storm away in the other direction, when I suddenly got an idea. It was risky but well…this was for Miley.

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! I recently just got the new Hannah/Miley CD, and honestly, I like the Miley CD more than the Hannah one.

Song stuck in my head: See You Again by Miley Cyrus.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. I wish.

Jake's POV:

I had planned on dressing up in nurse's clothes and sneaking in, but it didn't work. I had lost their track, and had absolutely no idea where they were taking her. I mean, I didn't know which operating room. And plus, I couldn't find any nurse's clothing. It was a lot harder than I had fantasized. So, here I was, sitting pitifully alone against a wall in the middle of the hospital, having no idea which room Miley is, not being able to go see her anyway, and out of ideas.

And honestly, I was _scared_. Like not _freaked out _scared but like, _scared. _The kind of scared that sort of just dawns on you like that, making you just want to cry. The kind of scared that you're sort of sitting on, avoiding it, which kind of creeps up behind your back and breathes hot on your neck and mists up your brain until you _get it._

And I wanted to cry. I really did. And heck, I did. I mean, I was alone in an empty hospital hallway. No one would see Jake Ryan cry.

I didn't even know how I long I was like that, my head in my hands, just crying freely like that. Wow, I hadn't done that in _so _long. Ever since my puppy died when I was like, seven.

I was so scared for Miley that I couldn't even explain it. I was nauseous. I needed to go to a bathroom. Now. I just knew I needed to find one. Fast.

I skidded down the halls, ignoring the outbursts of patients and nurses going, "Stop!" and I instantly barged through the door of the first bathroom I saw.

The moment I ran in, I knew something was wrong. The tiled walls were pink, and then suddenly I heard a girly shriek. I was so scared that I ran back out of the bathroom.

There was a sign that read on the door: WOMEN.

Oh, God. Could I be any stupider?

With embarrassment coloring my face, I ran into the bathroom across the hall, which of course, I checked to be MEN, and threw up in the first stall.

I wasn't sure if I'd thrown up because of the embarrassment, or because of Miley. I hung over the toilet, completely stressed.

What was I supposed to do?

I cleaned up, gargled water, and when I was sure I was okay, I left the bathroom, still feeling slightly queasy.

And then I found it. There was Miley's room, two doors down from the men's restroom. And there she was. Lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, hardly blinking: like she was before.

I didn't say anything as I made my way to her. I just sat down on the side of her bed quietly, and played with her hair.

She looked at me hard, but didn't say anything. She just bit her lip.

"Miley…." I said dreamily, peering over her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a tiny voice, on the verge of crying as tears filled her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I w-wasn't thinking. I—I was just so upset and—"

"Shhh, Miley, relax a little," I said gently.

Miley looked like she was really about to burst into tears as she stared at me, but I was surprised when she yanked the front of my shirt and mashed her lips against mine.

"Come in with me, Jake," Miley pleaded. "I need you."

"I-I don't think this is a very good idea, Miles. I mean, we're in a hospital—"

"Who cares, Jake? I _need _you. Now. Come in." Miley pointed to the bed, so I gave up and scooted under the covers with her.

I felt kind of tingly and had some weird fulfilling sort of sensation fill me. Maybe it was just knowing she was right there and okay. Or maybe it was because we'd never been in the same bed before.

Miley lay on her side in front of me, looking beautiful, even with tears in her eyes.

"I'm not crazy that way, Jake. If you think that's what I meant by needing you. Not _that _way. I mean, for God's sake, we're only fourteen. I mean, kind of just being here with me, close. You know?" Miley ended quietly. "It makes me feel better."

"Me too, Miley. You make me happy. Happy like no one else has made me before. I love you," I said, meaning all of it.

Miley's POV:  
Did he just say he loved me? I knew he'd said it to me before, sometime in the long run, but now, it felt like all the other times he'd told me were fake. Because this time was so real.

"I love you too," I whispered in his ear. He coiled his arm around my waist, and pulled me closer to him. I was not scared or paranoid for once. I was just happy that I was with him. I rested my head in his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around me like a shield.

"How was that operation?" he asked me.

I was appalled.

"Operation? What _operation_?" I said quickly, frightened.

"You had an operation, Miles. They did you an operation." Jake's face grew impatient.

"What _operation_?" I repeated numbly again. "I never got an operation."

How could I have gotten an operation? I'd just fallen asleep when my head started to bleed again, and when it stopped bleeding, Jake had probably changed the pillow.

"_Yes_, Miley. You had an operation. You don't remember?" Jake asked, his face getting awfully sad. "Not even waking up?"

I shook my head.

"You sure?"

I didn't answer as I just started to sob into Jake's shirt.

"Shhh, Miley," Jake just whispered soothingly as he rubbed my back. "It's okay."

"Ugh, I'm sorry again, Jake. I'm just so…pitiful," I said disgustedly through my sobs.

"No your not, Miley. You're beautiful. And you don't have to be sorry. I really do understand," Jake said.

I would have smacked him for being so clichéd if he weren't my boyfriend, and even if he weren't, I wouldn't have had the energy to.

So instead, I kissed him and hugged him tight, and he wrapped both of his arms around me protectively.

A/N: I know this was short, and a filler, but I had to reassure to everyone that Miley was okay. I am sooooooooooo excited to write the field trip part!!!! That'll be really fun and...interesting!! I've got a lot planned. The next chapter is honestly what I based this entire plot on, and it just kind of struck me when it happened, really hard. So that quick moment in my life is what kind of influenced me for this. I had never realized how thin the line was between life and death before that...Kinda sad, but...well, just read the next chapter! Thanks for all my reviewers and reviews!!


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

No one had spotted us at the hospital. Meaning Jake and me when we were in the bed. Because, really, from the side, it only looked like Jake was in the bed because he was on his side and so was I, right in front of him. Turned out that after I banged my head, they had done another operation, but I was already knocked out, and when they were done, I was still knocked out, so they gave me a medication of some sort to help wake me up and then they wheeled me back to my room. Sneaky. I got out of the hospital today (Sunday), and I'm going back to school tomorrow (Monday). And look at that, I didn't miss any school. No one would ever know.

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I pressed my lips together tightly, trying not to glance over at the currently empty spot next to me where Amanda would have been, her bright yellow hair catching every possible bit of light, smiling up at me cheerfully, even if her locker wasn't opening or she'd just gotten below a B on her test (she would have just been like, "I _will_ do better next time!"). It was surprisingly hard though, not knowing she was there.

So I just tried to put back my books as quickly as possible, and then I hurried to my next class. Gym. One of the only classes I didn't have with Lilly or Oliver.

I had gym second to last period, and last period I had free anyway. All day had been rough. Really rough. It had been quite a shock to most that Amanda was 'deathly' ill, and was a bigger deal since Amanda was so popular. And friends with so many people. There was a lot of whispering around in the hallway, everyone stealing quick glances at Jake, who'd been shrinking down in his seat shamefully all day. Poor guy. For once, he didn't want any of the attention.

It was weird not talking to Jake or being with him. I wanted to talk to him so bad all day, and I could see he did too, because in English he kept staring at me from across the room. I was still jealous that people thought that Jake and Amanda were the cutest couple or whatever. According to most of the grade, they were the It Couple. And I was the girl Jake had dumped so he could get Amanda. So now, no one wanted to go out with me because Jake Ryan had dumped me. Supposedly. Which means that no one wanted to date me because I wasn't good enough to go out with Jake Ryan for that long. Which didn't bother me.

Wow, does everyone have it _wrong_.

I marched into the girl's locker room and tried to open the lock on my gym locker (ugh!). I guessed I was going to have to change fast, because the locker room was already filled, meaning I was late. I pulled open the door of my locker finally, and searched madly for something I could wear. I had a huge mess of dirty gym clothes and extra changes of clothes in general in my gym locker that it was impossible to find things! So now I had to look through all this because I'd forgotten to bring clothes. What else was new?

But I stopped when I heard:

"Kayla! You know you're not supposed to use cell phones during school hours!" Jenna scolded. Kayla was leaning against a row of lockers in my section, quickly punching numbers into her cell.

"I know but—Amanda just called me somehow, and—well! You know I have _got_ to answer—" Kayla pouted rather absentmindedly as she studied her phone.

"_What_?" many girls said as they all rapidly filed into our section. "Amanda? Can I talk to her?"

"Shhh!" Kayla said quickly, pressing her phone to her ear. There was silence as everyone waited.

"Amanda?" Kayla asked finally. Everyone started to buzz with relief. "Yes, Amanda, it's me! Kayla! You called me earlier, didn't you? How are you?—Oh…I see. Well…I hope you get better, Amanda. But wait! Loads of people want to talk to you!… Okay…." Kayla pulled the phone away from her ear and covered it. "Only one at a time guys, you hear? She's exhausted…so, um, let's go with…uh…Jenna!" Kayla said, Jenna having been the first person she'd thought of.

Poor Kayla. Amanda and Kayla were best friends. They'd always been. Like…well, sort of like me and Lilly. This must be really hard for Kayla. Kind of like how hard it must have been for Lilly. I sighed sadly, going back to rummaging through my clothes, finally pulling out a wrinkled T-shirt and some basketball shorts. I didn't even play basketball, but I was guessing I'd once borrowed them from Lilly or something. As I changed, I overheard others' conversations:

"Really?" I heard Jenna whimper. "Oh…. When I got sick last winter, it wasn't _that _bad…at least I thought it was but now comparing…Oh, sorry, I got off track…. You sure? Okay, here's, um—" Jenna quickly glanced at the person in front of her, "—Halley." She thrust the phone to Halley, who pushed the phone to her ear immediately and whispered, "Amanda? It's me, Halley…." Halley was silent for a while, biting her lip, her chin quivering, and then managed shakily, "Oh. Okay…. I'll pray for you, Amanda. Here's…Jackie." Halley pretty much threw the phone to Jackie, who caught it luckily. And then, not surprisingly, Halley melted into tears in the corner.

"It's okay, Halley. She'll be out of there in no time," Olivia tried to calm down Halley.

"What are you talking about, Olivia? You haven't even talked to her yet!" Halley yelled louder than expected. Olivia tried to be patient.

"Trust me. Scientific knowledge has advanced more than we know. She'll be fine. I promise." Olivia sat down beside her.

"You promise?" Halley pouted.

"I promise," Olivia said easily.

I pulled out my running sneakers from the shelf in my locker, and started to untie them.

"—Okay then…right…. Here's, um, Leila," Jackie finished, looking teary eyed. I could already see her mascara starting to run. She rushed to one of the toilet stalls before anyone of the waiting girls could fire questions at her.

I just silently slipped on my sneakers and tied them. I didn't want to hear anymore of this. They were all being too over dramatic. Amanda wouldn't die. I'm serious. Olivia is _so _right.

The line started to shorten as more and more girls took their turn to talk to Amanda. Poor Amanda. Haha. Sorry I didn't mean that. I never said Haha to about Amanda.

I was still in the locker room though, cleaning up my locker space; trying to stuff all the other gym clothes I had taken out back in. So far: unsuccessful.

Bridget was the last to speak to her. Kayla was still waiting there, to get her phone back.

"I promise, Amanda. I won't let you down…. Okay…Here's, um—" Bridget's eyes found me, the last person not having talked to her already, hunching over to tie my sneakers. I was terrified when she forced the phone into my hand after finishing,"—Miley."

Bridget left the locker room quickly, and I couldn't turn back after I heard Amanda's familiar voice say, "Hey, Miley."

I froze. Her voice wasn't cheerful _at all_, like I'd expected it to be. It was so different, and sort of raspy. It didn't have that distinctive ring to it. It was dull sounding.

"Miley?" I heard Amanda say with difficulty.

"Oh—sorry. Um, wait a minute—" I covered the phone with my hand, and then whispered bravely to Kayla, "Um, Kayla, can I give you your phone after class? I promise I'll give it to you. Um, gym already started. So…."  
Kayla jumped up, and said, "Well…I really wanted to say bye to Amanda but—Well, okay. I guess I'll call her back later."

We both knew how angry our gym instructor got when we were late. Which was often.

Kayla left, I checked the entire locker room quickly to make sure no one was still lingering, and I said back to Amanda, "Sorry."

"Oh no, it's okay."

"Well, Amanda…. Let me say—you don't know how grateful I am that you are posing with Jake. Really. Um, this is going to sound pitiful—but we're really scared. Out of our minds."

"I'm just trying to be a good friend. I-I don't really know what to say about that murderer though. Sounds scary," Amanda whispered quickly.

"You have no idea. But really…thanks. It means a lot to both of us. I know we can trust you."

"You can. I promise. I won't tell _anyone_. I mean, who do I really have to tell anyway?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Amanda. You have loads of friends."

"Not at this stupid hospital," Amanda said bitterly.

"But you can always call them! Right?"

"Nope. My…um…my mom doesn't like it when I call my friends. She, uh, she used to love when my friends came over, but now she's l-like a witch. I don't know what's wrong with her. I guess ever since my dad cheated on her she—" but then I knew that Amanda had broken down into tears, because the other end of the line was silent except for a couple of loud sobs.

I felt so sorry for her. I'd never seen this side of Amanda. I never knew she had so many problems at home. And the way it sounded, that was only half of it. I frowned sadly. I knew that after this conversation ended, I'd never see Amanda the same way ever again.

"Um—Miley, I-I n-never told any—any one any o-of that before s-so can you keep it on th-the DL please?" Amanda sniffled into the phone.

"Sure," I said sadly.  
"Th-thanks, Miley. T-talk to you another t-time?" Amanda sniffed miserably.

"Definitely. I mean, yeah. Thanks, Amanda. Um, feel better. Everyone misses you," I said quietly.

"Yeah well…. See y-you soon."

And then the line went dead. I closed the phone. I pursed my lips together silently, and put Kayla's cell in my locker.

I was _not _going to cry. I _wasn't_. I was strong.

Pff, yeah right. You are weak Miley. You are so weak that you can't even go one day without vomiting at least twice.

Why did that voice have to kick into my life _now_?

And then before I knew it, I was draped over the toilet in the last stall, my fingers far down my throat, my lunch coming back up in reverse order.

And by the time I had finished cleaning up and everything, gym was already over.

I rushed out of the locker room fully clothed before any of the girls could come in and complain about the bothering smell of air freshener.

A/N: thanks for all the reviews!


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. If I did, you'd probably be watching this story on TV on the show instead of reading it.

Miley's POV:

The next day held a truly astonishing surprise.

Guess who was back.

Yep. Amanda.

See? See? I told you she was all right. Completely fine.

There she was at eight AM in the morning, bright smile stuck onto her face as she joyfully picked out her books for her next class as if she were never sick and as if she didn't have an exam her next period.

"Hey Miley!" she said happily as she snapped her locker shut.

Hmm…that cheerful ring in her voice was back.

"Hi, Amanda. Great to see that you're all better," I replied, sounding rather dull compared to her mood.

"Oh thanks!" Amanda said, and then lowered her voice as she leaned into me. "Listen…Miley…um, really, I can trust you, right? Like, please _please _don't tell anyone what I told you yesterday. That was really, uh, personal. I don't know how that slipped—I mean, I haven't even ever told that to Kayla, so…you know. I'd really appreciate if…I, well—It's honestly kind of embarrassing so…."

"Amanda! You can totally count on me. I promise, I won't tell a soul. And, um—" I lowered my voice this time and continued, "—about me and Jake and you know…that we're…you know—"

"Yeah, I promise. Gotta go to first! I'll see you later," Amanda hurried away after I thanked her and told her that yes, I would see her later.

Amanda's POV:  
Wow, Miley was so stupidly clueless about what I was planning that it was _sad. _Really sad. I couldn't wait to see the look on Jake's face…. Oh God, this was going to be _good. _It wasn't the most elaborate plan ever, but it was good enough. These two idiots were so in love they would hardly notice. And I still hadn't gotten over the shock that I was posing with Jake as his girlfriend.

On the upside, I wasn't sick anymore. All better. I think I would have just killed myself right there in the hospital if I couldn't go on the field trip and put my plan into action. I had to do this. Oh yes, I _had_ to.

The field trip was on Friday, and today was Tuesday, so I still had some time. I could hardly wait! Just thinking about it gave me the tingles!

Miley's POV:

I headed to Science moodily.  
"Sup," Lilly said to me as I plopped down in the seat next to her.

"Not much," I said bored.

"Class! Class!" Mr. Corelli tried to gather everyone's attention. "Once everyone is seated and quiet, I will pass out last week's test. Okay?"

Everyone quickly shuffled to his or her seats, eager for their scores.

"I think this test was way too easy. Seeing as, er…most of you got A's," Mr. Corelli droned on as he passed them out.

When he dropped my test into my hands, I almost fainted.

I didn't think I'd ever gotten such a low grade in _my life_.

I stared at the red mark on my paper, wanting to believe I'd read it wrong.

"Oh my God!" Lilly squealed and danced in her seat. "Miley! Guess what! I got an A!" She shoved the paper in my face, and I wanted to cry at the sight of the circled letter A.

"Wasn't this test just _so _easy? I mean, _come on_, I thought he was joking when he passed these out last week—" Lilly babbled on and on.

I couldn't listen. It was too much.

"So! What did you get?" Lilly finally said. She hadn't realized that I hadn't been paying attention.

"I don't feel like sharing," I said quietly as I slid down far in my seat.

"Well why not? Did you get something bad?" Lilly asked loudly.

"I don't feel like sharing," I repeated robotically again.

"Oh come on, Miley. It can't be _that _bad!"

And before I could even open my mouth, she'd snatched the packet from my hands and almost yelled in shock, "F?! You _failed_?!"

Most of the class whipped their heads around to look at me.

I shrunk so far down my seat that only my ponytail hung over the side of my chair.

"Lilly…." I hissed embarrassedly, trying to cover up the fact that I was about to cry.

"Whoa. You've never gotten below a B-! What happened?" Lilly asked. She scrunched her eyes up as she read my answers. "Letter C for number two?! Geez Miley, that was like the _easiest _one on the test."

And then I really couldn't take it as everyone started to slowly walk over to where we were sitting. I bolted out of the room, tears already falling down my face.

I ran into the deserted hallway and sat down against the cool lockers, hiding my face in my hands. I cried and cried, wondering why I hadn't studied.

Why hadn't I studied? Because I had no time. When was I supposed to?

This was a joke.

I wiped my eyes, and looked up. I was surprised to see Jake sitting against the row of lockers across from me.

Just looking at him made me cry even more.

He was quiet for a minute. Then he finally spoke:

"Miley, I wish so much that I could go over there right now and comfort you. But…you know I can't," Jake said gently.

I nodded as I wiped some more tears from my eyes.

Jake just stared at me sadly as I cried. I thought he'd leave since he couldn't comfort me anyway, but he didn't. He stayed sitting there, looking like _he _was about to cry himself.

"Alright, I can't take this anymore," Jake sighed.

He slid over to me and engulfed me in a huge warm embrace. My tears fell onto his jacket, but he didn't care.

"Jake—" I whimpered. "Jake—someone's going to see us—someone always will—"

"It doesn't matter Miley. You matter more," Jake whispered.

"But still—I mean, they'll think your cheating on Amanda—" I sniffled.

He was silent in thought as he stroked my hair.

"You're right," he decided finally. He kissed my forehead, and pulled away. I really didn't want him to leave, I really didn't, but it was too risky to stay like that together.

Jake stood, about to leave.

"Jake—I love you, I do. I just think it is too risky to be like this in school. But you know I love you," I whispered, pulling my knees into my chest and hugging them.

"I understand Miley. You do matter more to me than anything, but…. It's too risky." Jake licked his lips as if waiting for something. "I'm sorry, Miley, but I've got to go. I love you."

He stared at me, long, hard and deep as if it could make up for the fact that he couldn't kiss me. I just sort of pressed my lips together in return, fighting the urge to go run and kiss him.

And what do you know?

When he was out of sight, I immediately pushed open the door to the girl's lavatory, kneeled over the first toilet, and puked my last night's dinner. I hadn't eaten breakfast. I had no time. I always slept in late because I stayed up so long. Not by choice. I just couldn't fall asleep at night anymore. I was too preoccupied. I'd lay awake in bed for three or four hours, crying for unclear reasons. It felt like all I did now was cry.

I didn't even bother going back to Science.

_Who cares? No one. No ones cares about you. No one gives a shit about you anymore. You're just as appealing to them as a brainless bug._

_And where has Hannah gone? Hannah isn't on as many magazine covers as she used to. No one likes her anymore. She's old stuff._

I threw up all over again at the thought.

A/N: Wow! I'm so motivated to write all time because of all my wonderful reviewers!! I am so excited for this story, you have no idea!! What do you think Amanda is planning to do? Dun dun dun!! Omg, just thank you so much for the reviews! They make me feel so good about myself:)


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:  
Friday finally came. Slowly though. Very _very _slowly.

I wasn't exactly sure if I was excited, or just wanting to get the hiking trip over with.  
I wasn't on speaking terms with Lilly. After what she'd done to me in Science that Tuesday morning; well, she should just _forget _it. How _humiliating_. The whole class did _not _need to know that I'd just failed the easiest test in history. How could Lilly have done this to me?

I was too angry with her to act like her best friend. I ate my lunch in the bathroom. Even though I'd puke it up right after.

-------------------------------------------------

I was surprised to see that Sea View High had actually been able to rent us a nice fancy Coach bus; the kind with velvet seats and mini televisions overhead, air-conditioning, a bathroom in the back, and foot rests for every chair.

I walked down the long aisle of seats, trying to pick carefully. There weren't too many seats available. Not near Lilly who was obviously with Oliver, so not near Oliver—not near Jake or Amanda—

"Stewart!" Mr. Corelli barked at me.

Startled, I turned around quickly to find Mr. Corelli munching on a powdered doughnut and pointing a finger at me.

"Find a seat!" he said with his mouth full and open, showing chunks of un-chewed doughnut. Ew. "Come on, Stewart, we haven't got all day. We've got get outta here in five minutes if we want to make it in time. Here, take that empty seat, next to Ryan. There ya' go."

Mr. Corelli gave me a huge shove to the back of the bus, and I found myself standing cluelessly in front of Amanda and Jake.

_Lord. _

Amanda had the aisle seat, Jake was in the middle, and there was an empty seat next to the window.

Amanda was wearing short shorts and a white shirt. Amanda's hands were folded neatly in her lap, huge gold Gucci sunglasses behind her ears, her yellow hair hung in a perfect ponytail. She turned her head to me, flickered her eyes at me for a short moment, and then lowered her eyes again.

Jake looked up longingly at me behind Amanda, waiting for me to say something, anything. I didn't dare ask why Amanda wasn't sitting with Kayla.

"Um—Mr. Corelli—he said—there weren't any more empty—I have to sit—" I stammered embarrassedly.

"We get it." Amanda stated shortly.  
"Um, Miley, you can sit here," Jake said eagerly.

He stood up, and Amanda sighed as she did too after Jake.

"Uh, thanks," I muttered as I squeezed pass them and slouched down in the empty seat.

I was about to put my head back on the chair out of exhaustion when I felt a hand hold my head quickly.

"Miley, watch out." It had been Jake's hand.

Amanda looked at the both of us suspiciously from the corner of her eye.

I pressed my lips together nervously like I always did, and picked my head up slowly.

"Oh, uh, thanks Jake. I wasn't thinking."

"No prob, Miles," Jake replied fast.

"Everyone! Head count! When I call out your name—ah, well, you know the drill…" Mr. Corelli bored on.

After Mr. Corelli was satisfied that everyone was present, the long drive started.

I found a pillow in a compartment under my seat, and I rested my head on it against the window. I closed my eyes, and tried to sleep, but it was _so _hard.

Jake kept staring at me for whiles at a time, and Amanda kept stealing quick looks at both us as if she expected us to be making out.

I finally got fed-up by this, and I could see Jake and Amanda had too.

"Do you know how much longer it is until we get there?" I asked Jake, sitting upright and storing away the pillow.

"I don't know. Sorry." Jake said apologetically. "Wait a minute," he added.

He faced Amanda and whispered to her, "Can you cover for us? I mean, most people are sleeping anyway, but can you please—"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Fine," Amanda answered unhappily in her high voice.

"Great. I mean—thanks, Amanda. Thank you so much."

"Yeah, okay," Amanda said grumpily, gripping both armrests hard.

Jake turned back to me.

"Miley," Jake whispered, as he put the armrest between up. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. I rested my head in his chest, and closed my eyes.

I think we fell asleep like that, because it felt like a minute later Jake was softly whispering in my ear to wake up.

"Huh?" I asked sleepily.

"Miley, we're here," Jake whispered again, lightly pushing me away.

"Whoa, did I fall asleep the whole ride?" I asked hazily.

"We both did. I just woke up right before we got here, luckily," Jake said, standing up. Everyone on the bus was getting up and gathering their bags. Amanda was already in the aisle, quietly grasping the straps of her backpack tightly.

I stood up too, and retrieved my bag under the seat in front of me. Slowly, everyone eased out of the bus.

"Okay!" Mr. Corelli shouted to everyone in the parking lot. "Now, we're going to eat our lunch at this stream here, and then go on an hour hike in hiking groups that loops around back here. Some, um, everyone take a lunch bag and a water and we'll head on down to the stream."  
Everyone trekked over down some manmade stone steps and to a wide river, calm trickling water weaving its way down around the rocks.

Everyone "Ooh"ed and "Ah"ed at how beautiful and peaceful it was.

Trees bent down and over the river like a canopy or tunnel, and uncovered patches above let in beams of sun. There were cut pieces of logs scattered around, used as benches.

"Wow," I heard Jackie breathe behind me.

"This is pretty." I agreed.

"Here Jacks, let's go sit over there." Kayla waved over to Jackie far off on the side of the stream.

"Yeah, sure." Jackie started off with Kayla, but I quickly hiked up.

"Uh, Kayla, can I sit with you guys too?" I asked nervously.

These two girls and some of their friends were just as popular as Amber and Ashley and Amanda.

I guess they were my friends. Sort of. I mean, we got along. We talked in some classes. Sometimes. But _I _wasn't popular. Well, a bit notorious unfortunately.

"Oh sure Miley!" Kayla said merrily.

I coiled the top of the brownbag in my hands. At least I didn't have to sit with Lilly. Or Amanda.

Actually scratch that. There was Amanda, like I shoulda known, sitting down at a wooden table. Actually not really sitting. More like weakly slouching and resting her head on it like she hadn't slept in days.

"Oh good, Kayla! You found us a table!" Jackie squealed, sitting down beside Amanda.

"I know. I was _so _lucky. Eric almost grabbed it before me," Kayla replied proudly, plopping down next to me on the splintery bench.  
"Ooh! Eric! He's _yummy_," Amanda said in her giggly voice once she'd picked her head up.

"Don't you like Toby?" Jackie laughed.

"_Oh _my _Gawd_. He's like—oh my gosh—" Amanda stopped suddenly, flashed a look at me, then continued, "Too bad I'm taken."

"Oh yeah right. Lucky. Jake Ryan. He's a keeper," Jackie said.

I gulped hard. Please don't look at me, Jackie—please don't remember—

"Hey Miley! Didn't you date Jake before Amanda?" Jackie asked me quizzically.

I shot Amanda a look.

"Yeah."

"Did _you_ break up with _him_?" Jackie questioned me again.

"Um—I don't feel like talking about it."  
"Why not?"

"I just—sorry—I just can't—"

"That's okay. Sorry," Jackie apologized.

Amanda's POV:  
This is when I realized that if my plan was going to work, I needed to be like _best friends _with Miley Stewart. I would be tricking her, but then…well, then if I weren't her best friend, this plan would hardly work. So…I needed to include her in absolutely everything and be like _super _nice to her. I needed her to want to be my friend.

Miley's POV:

Kayla ripped open her brownbag, and pulled out a sloppy turkey sandwich. The bread was hard, obviously stale, and the bruised turkey had fat all along the sides. She poked at it, sighed, and then shrugged, "I guess it'll have to do." She sighed again. "I hate school lunches." Kayla took a bite.

I was _not _eating that. No way. Never. Never ever ever. I gulped. I hoped I wouldn't have to ever eat it. But if I didn't, they'd think I was weird. They wouldn't buy any excuse I'd give them. I guess I'd have to take a risk.

"They manage to rent us a nice bus, but they can't even get us decent sandwiches?" Jackie shook her head, unwrapping her sandwich anyway. "I know I'll regret this."

And she took a bite too.

"Oh _gross_." Amanda had been observing. "See? That's why I'm not eating it."

"Well you've got to eat something!" Kayla said.

"Ew, no. I didn't even grab a lunch bag." Amanda stood up.

"Are you serious?" Kayla asked.

"You can't make me eat that. It's disgusting."

"Hey Kayla, look at this fat on the sides of the turkey! Isn't that just gross?" Jackie asked, holding up a slice of her turkey.

"Ew! See? See? Another reason not to eat that gross sandwich," Amanda complained.

"Oh come _on_," Kayla said sternly.

Amanda snatched her water bottle and went away from the table and nearer to the stream. She jumped atop a fallen tree and tried to walk across it.

Amanda's POV:  
I wasn't stupid. I was so much smarter than people thought I was. In a sneaky way, but still. I was proud of my intelligence and knowledge.

Miley thought I didn't know. But I did. I knew very well about her eating disorder.

How? It was _so _easy. It was like putting together the pieces of a puzzle. There are a lot of them, but once you think and put everything together, it all makes sense.

I mean really: she's been eating in the bathroom for the last few days, she runs out to the bathroom at the end of lunch everyday (even sometimes during classes), she tries not to eat in front of people, and when we did a unit on eating disorders in Health, she couldn't even look the teacher in the eye. She looked like she was about to faint, and she had this amazingly guilty expression on her face. When the teacher was telling us that when you vomit blood it is a bad sign, Miley actually ran out the room saying she had to go pee. And once even, I went to the bathroom to wash my hands, when Miley came running in. She froze when she saw me and stopped so suddenly she almost fell forward.

"Oh—h-hi—" Miley had stuttered.

"Hi!" I had said back to her.

"Never mind me," she'd said quickly and ran back out the door.

Psh. Wow. _So _secretive.

So I was being nice and saying I didn't want to eat so she'd feel like she didn't have to and be so thankful for me, and also she would feel more included because maybe she'd think I had an eating disorder. I'd already eaten my lunch on the bus in that bathroom.

Miley's POV:

Oh my _God_. Now I didn't have to eat mine either.

I would have to remember to thank Amanda.

I quickly hid my brownbag behind a tree.

"Yeah, I don't want to eat that either. It's nasty," I said promptly, standing up too. I joined Amanda on the log.

"Are you serious? You've got to eat _something_!" Kayla stood up, getting angry now.

I didn't even turn to look at her. Amanda ignored her as well.

"Damn you guys!" Kayla shouted angrily. "What's wrong with you?"

I could hear Amanda swallowing hard in her throat.

"This is why I didn't sit with her on the bus," Amanda said quietly from in front of me. She looked down at her feet somberly.

"Oh."

She stopped walking abruptly.

"She thinks she can control my life. She _can't_. I'm sick of it. I've tried telling her, but she doesn't give a crap. I'm sick of that too," Amanda whispered seriously.

She hopped off the log, and continued to walk near the stream. I followed. Many other kids who had already eaten were tossing rocks through the stream and poking around.

"Whoa! This stream is pretty strong!" Halley was in the water, sneakers and everything, her arms outstretched for balance.

There were many others with their feet in the water, or trying to walk across one side to the other using the rocks as stepping-stones.

"Halley! You're going to ruin your shoes," I called out to her.

She shrugged.

Olivia had her butt in the water. She'd obviously slipped off a rock.

"Oh…." she whined. "My mom's going to _kill _me. I just got these pants!"

"Hmm…." Amanda smiled mischievously, almost scaring me. She stared at me, her eyes twinkling.

Before I could say anything, Amanda had slipped off her sneakers and socks.

"Want to come in with me?" Amanda asked, dipping a toe into the water.

"I—" I stammered.  
"Come on!" Amanda protested. By now both of her feet were in, the water lapping up right above her ankles. "Oh my _God_! Miley, this feels _amazing_. You won't believe how refreshing it is! You'll feel it once you get in the water."

And almost like a robot, I whipped off my sneakers and socks and planted my feet in the water.

I was blown away.

It _was _refreshing.

The water was thin and filtered and flowed around my feet, almost politely.

The water was so cold that my feet were completely numb, but it felt good. The coldness surged up from my feet; up up up throughout my body like electricity.

My toes felt the smooth surfaces of the pebbles beneath me. I bent down and scooped up a handful of the clear water, letting it drip through my fingers, back into the river.

"Wow," I breathed and smiled at Amanda, who looked happier than I'd ever seen her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Amanda laughed back.

"Oh my God. Yes," I whispered breathlessly.

Amanda laughed again.

I turned away from Amanda and tried to walk on top of the stepping-stones. They were surprisingly slippery.

Then I heard a high-pitched scream.

I whirled around.

It had been Amanda.

A/N: dun dun dun. I definetly have a lot more to this field trip, but I can't fit it all in one chapter. I know that a lot of people hate that Miley has an eating disorder, but I really need that element in this story for a lot of reasons. It shows how troubled and depressed Miley is. It sort of makes you angry at Miley, which is good in a way. It kind of shows you how secretive and desparate Miley is too.

Thank you so much for the reviews!


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

There was Amanda, bent over, her entire shirt soaking wet, and Toby standing behind her with an empty water bottle.

"You idiot!" I yelled, trying not to laugh. "She's wearing a white shirt!"

Toby shrugged, and just laughed.

"And a white bra!" Kayla hollered, still angry.

"Not helping," Amanda said glumly.

She turned around to Toby, snatched the water bottle from his hand, and bopped him on the head with it.

"That was water is _freezing_! God Toby! And I'm wearing a _white _shirt!" Amanda threw the water bottle on the ground, and "angrily" turned around to me.

I saw her smile before she whipped around.

"Can you really see my bra through this?" Amanda wailed, wringing out her wet shirt in front of her.

"Um—" I started, not wanting to admit to her that yes, you could see her bra _very well _through her shirt.

"You can, can't you? Oh well…." She sighed "sadly".

Yeah right. Like she cared. I knew she was secretly happy inside.

Jackie had been _so _right. Amanda was like falling all over Toby.

"Hey, Miley, where did I leave my water bottle? I need to give back Toby what he deserves."

I handed Amanda her water bottle, and she walked right up to him, and poured it all over him.

"Amanda! Geez. I was only joking," Toby laughed.

"Only joking? How can you be _only joking_?" Amanda started to walk forward, forcing Toby to walk backwards.

"Hey! How come you're walking forward, and I'm walking backward? I should be the one walking forward!" and then Toby changed everything by starting to walk forward, causing Amanda to walk backward, and collide into a tree.

"Whoa!" Amanda shouted in surprise as her heel caught in a tree root. She went down flat onto her back.

Toby "hadn't seen it coming", tripped over the same root, and landed on Amanda.

Wow. I mean, _seriously. _

They stayed like that for maybe a minute, both of them in trances and gazing into each other's eyes, when Amanda finally (and sadly) snapped back to life.

"Get off me!" Amanda whined.

"Oh," Toby said rather disappointedly. He rolled off of her, and everyone surrounding them just stood there, gaping.

"Aren't you dating Jake?" Halley gasped, pointing to Jake, who was standing behind me.

Amanda stood up, brushed her hands off, and said an unconvincing "Yeah" as she tucked a strand of her yellow hair behind her ear.

"Oh. Okay." Halley shrugged and left. Everyone else did too.

Amanda rushed over to me and whispered, "He's _such _a jerk."

"Oh _come on_, Amanda. You and me both know that you secretly like him," I whispered back mockingly.

Amanda smirked.

"Whatev."

---------------------

"Okay so: hiking groups. We're putting you in hiking groups by alphabetical order, and those will be your, eh, hiking groups. You have to watch out for everyone in your group to make sure they don't get hurt or lost. But all the hiking groups are hiking together so we can end up in the same lunch spot and er, not lose each other. Okay so um—"

Mr. Corelli read off the hiking groups, and I was horrified when he read off mine:

"—Halley Reynolds, Marc Russell, Craig Rustman, Jake Ryan, Amanda Sherwood, Miley Stewart…"

My heart like _stopped_.

This was a joke. A dream. Someone pinch me. _Now. _

It's not that I didn't want to be with Jake—it was Amanda. She'd been acting so weird and mischievous around Jake and I all week. She was bugging me so much. She kept glaring at us, watching every little move we did. She seemed so grumpy and quiet on the bus. It scared me. I know that a lot of people are like that, and that's normal for them, but it just _isn't _for Amanda. She's the kind of person that loses a pound everyday because they jump up and down so much. I'd never seen her so quiet. Ever.

You'd think she'd be happy for not being sick anymore and going on a field trip.

But no. She's not. Amanda looked queasy, the whole bus ride. And I got the feeling it wasn't because of the bumps in the road the bus kept bouncing on.

And then, all of a sudden, she started to include me in everything and was real nice to me. Like during lunch. She was acting like my best friend.

Odd.

Honestly, I'd always been jealous of how gorgeous and perfect she was, but then when she got sick— and when she spilled to me about her family probs—I just didn't think it was a blast to be Amanda anymore. It looked exhausting and complicated.

Yet I still _wasn't_ thankful for being me. Miley.

We started on the hike; Halley, Marc, and Craig being the only ones talking. Jake, Amanda, and I just—didn't. I just carefully climbed up each rock, steadying myself with my hands. Jake walked behind me. He didn't have to tell me why. I knew why. So incase I fell, he could catch me.

Amanda's POV:

Oh _God_.

Jake was walking behind Miley so incase she fell _he could catch her_.

Geez. Talk about mushy.

"Wow! Look at this plant!" Halley shrieked from the front of the group. "Look!"

Marc and Craig stopped and they both marveled at a bright pointy red plant.

Good. Goody good. This was going along perfectly with my plan. Now all I needed to do was go with it….

I marched up to the little crowd around the plant, and pretended that I thought that it was absolutely spectacular.

"Whoa!" I said, trying my best to sound enthusiastic. "That's an awesome plant. Look at the colors. And the shape of the leaves."

I waved to Jake.

"Hey, Jake! Take a look at this plant! It looks exactly like the one we had to report on in Science!" I hollered.

Like I'd hoped, Jake walked up to the plant.

"Hey," Jake said in surprise. "That's pretty darn cool. Hey Miley, come check this out!"

"NO!" I blurted.

Everyone's head's whipped around quickly. They all stared questioningly at me.

I took to fingering my hair shakily as they all started to walk in.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! They really do keep me motivated!

Btw, please pleez don't hate Amanda. I mean, she really doesn't...mean it...I guess. She's pretty much doing all of this with her eyes closed and her brain shut off. Kinda.

You _CAN _hate Amanda if you want to, but you might be sorry...well...you'll see in...not the next chapter...but maybe the couple after that...

OK I AM GIVING A LOT AWAY THERE **I know this was a very short chapter but it was this or you'd have to wait longer so I just decided to put this instead of keepign you guys waiting! Thanx!**


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Thanks to the following for reviewing my last chapter:

--nysunsetangel  
--fictiongirl101  
--xJiley4evax

--cheetalady95

--ForbiddenxMelody  
--Roxirose

--KASAYYx14

Thanks BUNCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You all keep me going!!!!!

Now on with the chapter!!!!!!

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Amanda's POV:

"I mean—Miley! You're foot's stuck in this root! Here, let me help."

And before anyone could actually see that there wasno root, I knelt down and wiped away handfuls of dirt from her sneaker, pretending there'd been a root.

"There you go," I said, slapping my hands together and standing up.

"Oh, thanks Amanda!" Miley exclaimed.

"Oh, I was just…trying to be a good friend!" I said back in the same tone.

"No, really, Miles! Check out this plant!" Jake hollered once more over his shoulder.

And I just had to let her. I had to.

Miley ran over next to Jake and examined the plant along with the rest of them.

And me?

I just stood there like in idiot in the back; my arms crossed over my wet shirt, muttering over and over again under my breath: "Humph."

After everyone had _finally _taken enough pictures of the stupid plant, we _finally _kept on with our hike.

I was _so _lucky that we didn't have any chaperons. I mean, I know it's not very safe, but…you know, I wouldn't be able to put my plan into motion with one of them watching over me like a hawk.

And then I grabbed another good chance.

We'd been brushing away branches and scratchy plants from our faces and struggling in a thick wood for what felt like hours, obviously lost, when we finally reached a dusty cliff.

I saw the opportunity, and before any one could turn the other way, I stepped forward; out of the thick and onto the dusty orangey surface of the cliff.

I cautiously peered over.

A river.

A hard, strong flowing river.

Rocks.

Rocks were at the bottom.

Next to the river.

And under the river, at some parts.

Rocks.

Hard. Huge. Hazardous.

Rocks—

River—

Perfect.

"Amanda! Get away from there!" Jake yelled.

"No! Look! It's _sooooooooo _beautiful here! Come here!" I hollered.

Miley cautiously stepped out from the thick.

I knew she could trust me.

I had not been lying about the stream.

So she knew I wouldn't be lying about this.

Slowly, and in this order, Jake (because he wanted to make sure Miley didn't get hurt), Halley (who was in Jake's fan club and obsessed), Craig (who was obsessed with Halley), and Mark (who felt left out alone in the bushes) all stepped out from the bushes after Miley, in the same careful fashion.

"What are you scared about guys? It's nothing! It's so free up here!" I laughed, throwing my head back up to the bright blue sky.

"Amanda…." Jake trailed off weakly.

Miley had already made her way over to me.

I almost fell off the cliff when I saw her.

She looked like a ghost as she made her way forward to me.

All of a sudden I wanted to scream to her to go away.

She scared me.

Her skin had almost paled to gray.

She seemed to float slothfully over the dusty ground, her glazed eyes squinting slightly.

"Miley…." Jake's voice warned from all the way in the back.

Miley didn't seem to hear him as she peered over the edge.

"Oh!" Miley gave a small, scared gasp.

She staggered back quickly, her face turning as white and ghastly as if she were a ghost.

"Isn't it so cool?" I asked.

Miley's eyes grew enormous as she shook her head in horror, and stumbled back further.

Numb.

Her lips couldn't move.

She wasn't saying anything.

And then my foot _accidentally _nudged a rock in front of her foot.

I sneakily kicked another heavier rock to her heel, which surprisingly was enough force to tumble her over the rock near her toe.

And then.

She went.

Over.

Over the edge.

Of the cliff.

Miley went over the edge of the cliff.

My mouth opened into a huge O.

So wide it could snugly fit a bagel there.

I heard her scream.

I didn't say anything.

I stepped back, and saw two tiny, sweaty hands gripping the edge of the cliff.

"Jake!" Miley cried.

Jake had already run over.

"_Miley_!" Jake shouted, terrified. He dropped down onto his stomach and leaned over the edge, his face directly over Miley's. "What happened?"

"I don't care right now, just help me!" Miley wailed helplessly.

I felt tears well up beneath my eyes.

I squeaked.

Oh God.

Oh my effing God.

When I'd pictured this in my head, it seemed fun.

Like a perfect, evil plan.

Now…I wasn't sure if it was 'fun'.

Jake clasped Miley's hand, and gave a huge wrenching pull upward, but Miley hardly budged.

All that binging must of gained her something.

Jake looked like he was about to cry.

"Hang in there, Miley," he whispered, sounding strangely doubtful.

Miley's face was still white; her mouth was twisted in fear, and her forehead was starting to sweat. She tried to nod her head, but failed.

Halley, Craig, and Mark had skidded over by this point; their mouths dropped open, frozen—speechless.

"U-uh—Wh-at—" Halley could hardly speak.

Jake yanked Miley up again.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Miley cried desperately.

Jake was quiet for a moment.

I was startled when he yelled, "Amanda! _Help_!"

I had thought that he'd forgotten I was there.

No.

I was not going to help.

That would ruin _everything_.

Completely.

But I reached down and grasped Miley's left forearm anyway, unsure why I'd given in.

"Pull upward on the count of three!" Jake shouted desperately. "One…two…_three_!"

We both yanked Miley up with all of our might, but Miley stayed put, tears streaming down her face.

"Jake," she cried, her sweaty hands starting to slip. "I love you. I love you so much, I can't even explain it."

Halley, Craig, and Mark's mouth dropped even lower, if that was even possible.

I was surprised when she looked at me.

"And Amanda…even though you've been acting kind of weird lately you are still one of my closest friends. Thank you so much."

Miley swallowed.

Really really hard.

"This is really hard for me, but there's no other way," Miley gulped, her face white and wet.

"NO!!" Jake yelled, backing away as if someone was threatening him with a gun. "NO WAY! Hold on Miley! HOLD ON!"

Jake whipped out his cell and dialed 911.

There were a couple annoying beeps, and then _beep_. A louder beep.

Jake stared at the screen in silence and sadness, pressing his lips together fiercely as to not scream, then slowly snapped the phone shut.

"No reception," Jake whispered, not blinking and staring off into nowhere. He lowered his eyes.

"Miley," Jake knelt down and laid his hand softly on top of hers. "You can't do this. You can't do this to yourself. To your dad. To Jackson. To the world. What would all those little kids say when they find out their idol is dead? Because of their choice? You can't do this to all those people, Miley. You can't do this. And—"

Jake looked at Miley straight in the eye. Straight.

And more quietly, Jake forced out of his mouth in barely a whisper, "…you can't do this to _me_."

Miley scrunched her face up and tears squeezed out.

"Don't make me—" she pleaded desperately.

"—Miley! You can't really do this—you can't be serious—stop this prank—" Jake rambled on,"—come to your senses—please, think of all those people that _need _you—"

"_Jake_!" Miley cried out, tears staining her face, which was turning scary white. "_Stop it_!"

And Miley started pitifully crying all over again, her hands squeezing the rock they were grasping extra hard.

"You don't know what my life's like! You _don't_! I can't _handle _it anymore!" and then lowering her voice, as if she were sure what she was saying, she whispered shakily, "No one cares about me. No _cares. _I'm so _lonely_. I don't know if it's Hannah's influence or what—ugh—I _don't know_! But I know that…I hate my life. I want to die."

Miley's eyes shined spookily of sadness and fear and haunt, and she closed her eyes briefly, releasing more tears.

Jake was speechless. He looked taken aback, his eyes widening.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it.

It was quiet for a while, no one moving or saying anything, tears just silently spilling from Miley's eyes.

Jake's POV:

Shocked.

More than shocked.

I was so shocked I couldn't even think straight.

And at the same time I wanted to cry.

And take her in my arms and hold her, and tell her everything would be all right.  
I never knew she felt like that.

Sure, I knew she was miserable, but not _that _badly. She was going to kill herself.

No regular person has suicidal thoughts.

But I would make her better.

And not as a chore. Not because that's what boyfriends should do when their girlfriends are depressed and having suicidal thoughts and want to die.

Why did that sound so odd?

I couldn't let Miley kill herself. I was going to make her better, I _was _going to. I was going to do this for her because I loved her, because she meant absolutely everything in the world to me.

But I was still angry. I couldn't control myself. I had to fight.

Miley would see how stupid she was being after this was all over.

And she'd learn from this. I needed to show her my side of this stupidity she was making me fight.

Amanda's POV:

"Fine," Jake said firmly, slightly aggravated. "Do what you want. But Miley, I _know_—I know that you haven't thought this over."

What was Jake _thinking_?!?!?!  
He couldn't just leave Miley like that!

"NO!" I found myself blurt.

I slapped my mouth shut in horror, but when everyone turned to look at me, I brought my hand back to my side and tried to say as calmly as I could, "No Miley. You can't do this. You'll _die_. Are you insane?"

Jake nodded at me as if to thank me for my help.

"Miley! _We_ care about you! We _care_! I love you, Miley! I _love _you! Doesn't that mean anything to you? And now, because of this stupid act of yours, I'm going to kill myself."

Halley's eyes bugged out of her head. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"NO!" Miley screeched. "_No_! Don't kill yourself, Jake! You can't do that to yourself—that's _insane_—"

"See?! _This _is insane! You're just killing yourself!" Jake hissed hotly.

"Jake—don't make me go through this—please—I'm done with all of this—" Miley cried.

"You're giving up," Jake said quietly, in some sort of realization. "You're just—you're just throwing away your life because you're too lazy to fix it. Wow, Miley. Bravo."

"No!" Miley yelled. Then whispering obviously frightened: "It's not like that at all."

"Well, its certainly seems to be!"

"No Jake—you just don't get it—"

"Get what?! What more is there to understand?" Jake shot up. And then in a very soft tone, he added, "I love you. But…I guess that doesn't mean anything to you."

Miley's face seemed to soften a little, and then she whispered back, avoiding eye contact with Jake, "I love you."

The rest all seemed to happen in slow motion:  
Miley's sweaty hands started to loose grip in two seconds, and then boom, she let go.

Like that.

Like it didn't matter.

Like she'd be alive.

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A/N: sooooooooo heres the new chappy here. sorry for the delay and all i was reading Harry Potter. JK Rowling killed off like a million ppl!! What, did she just like pick names out of a hat or something?!?! I was crying for most the book :(

I will try not to spoil it for others who have not yet read or finished the book yet...

So...tell me...did this chapter suck?? I meant it for it to be really dramatic and teary, and if it didn't well, I can always rewrite it...

Current Song Stuck in My Head: Wait For You by Elliott Yamin


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

---------------------dun dun dun-------------------------------

Amanda's POV:  
I was astonished as Miley fell farther and farther away, finally plunging down into the freezing water with a noisy splash.

I could hardly believe it. Jake was just staring, his mouth half open.

And then, when I thought it wouldn't get pushed anymore, there he went, just like that—

Jake's POV:

And then I did it.

As easy as Miley'd done it.

I dived.

I plummeted into the ice water, the coldness prickling up my body and poking at my bones in a peculiar way that oddly disturbed me.

It was a miracle I was still alive, but maybe that was because I'd dived the right way, having been on a swim team for quite a while before. Miley, on the other hand, had just let go from a very uncomfortable, unsafe position. There was a much larger chance she'd be hurt or…you know, dead.

I didn't want to think about it.

No.

It wasn't possible.

Of course she was alive. Of _course_.

Miley.

Was.

Alive.

No doubt about it.

"Miley!" I shouted over the loud rippling of the water. "_Miley_!"

No response.

I found myself breathing hard as I searched. I had to tread water, as I wasn't tall enough to stand. Occasionally, my foot would kick at a pointy rock, and just thinking that Miley had maybe banged her head on it or something got me scared.

I dove under, and opened my eyes in the surprisingly clean, blue water.

My heart hammered inside my chest; I felt like I was in a race against time.

Halley's POV:  
I stood, in shock, waiting for Amanda to say something; anything.

But she didn't say anything. She just stood, peering over the edge of the cliff. If her mouth could stretch as far as the ground, it'd be touching it.

"Amanda," I said, my voice quivering.

She didn't even stir.

"Amanda," I shouted.

No movement.

I scoffed, "We have _got _to get down there!"

When Amanda still didn't move or say anything, I took hold of her forearm, and wrenched her roughly, starting to head down the cliff. Amanda almost seemed possessed; she wasn't blinking.

"Mark! Craig!" I called out, not even looking behind me as I steadied myself down the steep, rocky cliff, holding onto Amanda's arm tightly, and trying to move her down as well.

Mark and Craig snapped back to life and they both came running after me, down, down the cliff.

Jake's POV:  
The water was so cold it gave me a headache. This blue-gray water misted up my mind, as well as my vision—

I went down, down as deep as I could without bumping the sharp rocks at the bottom, weaving my way around them carefully.

After a couple of minutes of searching, my panic attack started to worsen immensely.

Where was Miley?  
Where _was _she?

It was a stupid thing of her to do, but I loved her—I couldn't let this happen to her.

We'd get through this—we'd learn. I'd make her feel better—I would.

We would live in a pool of peace and love; embracing life.

I just couldn't imagine the future without Miley. It was an impossible thought.

I wanted to be with her; through all times—happy ones, mad ones, sad ones, scared ones —everything.

My thoughts traveled over to all the good times we'd had; all the laughs, the harder times, the drama, the kissing—we'd been so perfect for each other.

------------------

"_It's beautiful, isn't it?" Miley marveled, looking up at the pitch-black sky. Stars popped out at you and they all looked like little pearls and diamonds. They twinkled._

_I found that I couldn't say anything. Miley kicked off her flip-flops and leaned into me. I put my arm around her, and squeezed her. Miley laughed as she slid her toes into the frosty blue water. I laughed too, and kissed her. She kissed back with obvious delight._

_"I love you," Miley giggled and kissed me again. She splashed her hands and kicked the water into mini ripples. She looked up at me and grinned proudly like a toddler who had just finished a "beautiful" drawing a.k.a. scribbles._

_At last, after walking a while, I sat down and Miley collapsed on top of me. We both lied down on the smooth sand, peering up at the stars. I put my arm around her protectively, and Miley approvingly smiled. We were quiet. We kissed a little, stared at each other a little, and we looked at the stars. Sometimes, you don't need to talk to your girlfriend to have some sort of connection. We could just read each other's minds._

"_I'm never leaving you. Ever. I just want you to know that," Miley broke the silence._

_I pulled her closer to me and kissed her passionately, as if it were the last kiss I'd ever give her._

"_Me either. I don't even care how mushy we are. It's not like I try to. I just love you."_

_Miley laughed again._

------------------------

_I studied Miley's long face in the quiet. I reached up and touched her cheek, and looked into her eyes. Straight into her eyes._

"_Why—why do you look so sad?" I asked finally._

"_That's it…I'm not so sure," Miley whispered, her chin quivering. It didn't take her long to start crying. I gripped Miley's forearm and pulled her close to me in a hug. _

_I could feel her wriggling in my embrace, but I only hugged her tighter._

_I was surprised. She always wanted to hug me. I loved hugging her too. She was so warm, and soft…and _there. _Even though I knew she was, hugging her always reminded me that she was _real_, not just a beautiful girl of my imagination; too good to be true. _

_Miley struggled to leave even harder. Her arms started to flail all over, and I tried hard to keep me with her._

_What had happened to her? She liked when I tried to soothe her. I knew it relaxed her, but she _had_ been rather odd lately, but then again so had I. _

_But what was this behavior? She'd never been this wild. I was scared for her. _

"_Jake, please. Let me go," Miley wailed. I was close to snatching one of her hands, but Miley quickly pulled away and continued throwing herself about. _

_Tears were streaming down her face now, and her blue eyes were red and puffy._

_What was she doing? What was she thinking, inside her brain, that very moment? If she were watching this from the outside, she'd see how absurd it looked—_

"_Miley, look at yourself! Why are you running from me? Are you hiding something? I thought you could tell me everything. Maybe you would just feel better if you told me now," I managed to say while I tried to catch her arms, which were punching the air._

_Miley let out a horrific pitiful sob out loud, somehow managed to shake her head, and I fought even harder._

_I swear that I felt my heart tear itself into pieces, one scrap falling away at a time. _

_I wasn't sure what had happened, or what had made her cry, but I knew I had to hold on to her. I couldn't let anything happen to her. _

_Why did it feel like Miley was my responsibility? I knew that she was her own person, and she could protect herself, but I cared about her so much that I wanted to know she was safe, that she was okay, no matter what it cost me. _

_If I was going to have to go this far to stop her odd unexpected tantrum, then I would. She might think I was a monster at this point; I didn't want to be one. I knew I was blocking a certain path that Miley desperately wanted to go down—but knowing how miserable and depressed Miley had been lately, I knew it wasn't a very good path. And I needed to stop her, to show her the right one, no matter how bad she thought of me, because once I calmed her down, she'd understand it all. _

_I finally caught one of Miley's wrists, and I continued to try her other._

"_Miley, stop this, this is crazy—" I said quickly. Out of pure luck, I snatched her other wrist._

_Miley shut her eyes and squeezed them so tight, that her head started to vibrate, and her entire face turned bright red. _

_"Miley!" I yelled concernedly._

_What was she _doing_? It looked like all the blood in her entire body had clotted at her head, making her face a scary red. _

_And then she just gave up. She balled her hands up into fists, and hung her head low. I was still gripping her by her wrists. As Miley pitifully and slowly dropped to the floor on her knees, I tried to keep her up by rising up her wrists._

_Was this some sort of surrendering act? That she'd maybe taken from some dramatic play? _

_More tears fell down her face as she gulped back forcefully._

"_Jake, let me go," Miley cried through her tears, feeling sorry for herself, and still staring at the floor. _

_I thought fast, yet meant every single word of it. _

"_Miley, I will never let you go. Never, ever. I will hold on to you, and protect you, and be there for you always," I stated firmly, my face softening. _

_Miley squished her face up in thought, and then even though I could tell that she couldn't handle it anymore, I was taken by surprise when she threw herself at me, and I just held her like that and stroked her hair, whispering soothing words into her ear._

---------------------

Yet she never told me what was wrong. She _did_, in a way, but she was still too insecure at the time to tell _everything_; the most important things that were bothering her.

Yes, there _were _problems with me, but I was so preoccupied with Miley's problems, that I never paid any attention to mine.

That was why they'd gotten so much worse. But I didn't care about that. I only cared about Miley.

I flicked away a number of pebbles, flying my face, pushing the water in front of me, squeezing my way through the rocks, and untangling myself from the ropes of seaweed, kelp, and algae.

I couldn't breathe—I needed air; I'd been underwater far too long, caught up in my thoughts and memories of Miley and I.

I still couldn't breathe—my lungs were closing up—I could feel my throat tightening—

I paddled upward, and as soon as my head popped out, I choked up a ton of water.

I inhaled again, and journeyed back down into the vast blue.

What had happened to Miley?  
Where there sharks in this water?

Would they have captured her? Even…maybe, _eaten _her?

No.

There were no sharks in these waters.

…

Right?

My heart leapt when I thought I saw a lock of brown hair floating near the top.

A wave of relief washed over me, yet at the same time I was still in fear and held in great suspense.

I swam my way up and gasped for air; the water ripples worked against me as I made my way towards a motionless figure floating gracefully along the surface in the distance; I could make out long, sopping wet brown hair covering their entire head, and face.

Not good.

"Miley!" I yelled out, as if Miley'd just pop right out of it, smile at me, and tell me it was all in good fun.

I kicked the water as hard as I could, my arms flailing all over the place, out of control—I just needed to get to my Miley.

"Miley," I said frantically, gripping her arm and shaking it roughly.

"_Miley_," I stammered again, growing very impatient.

I cleared Miley's hair away from her face.

Thank god she'd dropped onto her back. If she'd been floating on her front she wouldn't have been able to breathe…

"Miley!" I yelled, tears forming in my eyes.

Oh God…Oh my _God_.

I grasped her shoulders and shook her back and forth madly.

This wasn't happening…this _couldn't _be happening…this was a dream…please, _please _let this be a dream, God…please…pinch me…pinch me _now_…before things get any worse…

I couldn't bring myself to think it was really true. It wasn't.

Miley was still alive.

She was. I promised I'd protect her.

She _was _still alive.

But you can never be too sure…

_Oh God_….What had I _done_? I had done this to Miley…I was the one that put all that stress and weight on her…I take the blame…Oh God Miley, I'm _so sorry_…I love you…

Oh God… Oh God… 

Oh _God_…

I found that I couldn't say anything else.

I decided to bring her to land. I could check her better on firm ground.

I put my arm around her and slowly dragged her near to the ground. The closest piece of land there was around was really a thick wood; just like the one we'd been struggling through on top of the cliff. There was a little clear space in the very front; clear as in no trees.

I laid her down, and moved her wet hair away from her face.

I just stared at her, frozen in the horrifying moment, unsure what to do next. I took my thumbs and rubbed it over her soft eyelids.

Miley…Oh God, oh God…I'm sorry…Miley…Oh God…take me with you…I don't deserve life…it's all my fault…Oh God, Miley, oh _God_…

"CPR."

I was startled to hear a voice that sounded very much like Halley's, and I whipped around to see Amanda, Halley, Craig, and Mark all peering over at me.

I opened my mouth, speechless.

"CPR," Halley repeated is a 'duh' sort of voice, widening her eyes and shaking her head. "Duh. You've got to perform CPR."

I leaned in my head to hers, and our lips were about to touch when I heard another inconvenient outburst—

"Whoa! Isn't it going to be _so weird _like doing _mouth-to-mouth _with your, like, ­_ex-girlfriend_?" Halley asked, hands on hips.

I wanted to smack her.

Amanda sent me a look.

I sent her one back, as if to say, "_Help me!_"

"Halley—" I started, "—maybe—"

Amanda sent me another look, and I felt my eyes widening. I shook my head no.

I understood what she meant.

No, no, I shook my head. Certainly not.

"Yes," Amanda said aloud.

Halley, Craig, and Mark looked all perplexed.

"Fine," I resigned. "Listen…guys, em…I'm not dating Amanda. I never _really _did. It was a cover-up…well, because…me and Miley were dating…we still are…and no one could find out, or can… this wacko murder was threatening us…and…a-and now…well I really loved her and n-now—"

And then for the first time ever, Jake Ryan broke down into pitiful sobs in front of people.

I _know_.

But I didn't care. I didn't have time to care about anything else but Miley.

Miley needed me.

If she was…still alive…

Halley, Craig, and Mark weren't sure what to do. They just stood there; mouths open wide; still digesting the load of information I'd given out to them.

Amanda was quiet, her lips pressed hard together, lurking behind the other three, arms folded in front of her chest.

"Well…" Halley said finally. "You better…eh, help Miley. And, uh, we promise—we promise we won't tell _anyone_—"

"Yeah," Craig agreed, nodding. "We won't tell a soul."

"Promise," Mark contributed.

I sniffled in, wiping a falling tear, nodded back, and turned my attention to Miley once more.

I placed my mouth on her (thankfully) warm lips and did the procedure I had practiced so many times on a dummy.

Never had I thought I'd be doing it on my girlfriend.

My heart felt heavy; I felt pushed down, as if someone were standing on my shoulders.

"Miley," I said softly. I stroked her face.

My heart thumped so loudly in my chest that I could hear it myself. I gave Amanda a nervous look.

I redid the procedure, and waited, scared out of my mind.

My heart lifted tremendously; Miley's hand moved.

"Miley," I said, growing with excitement. "Miles!"  
Her eyes suddenly fluttered open. She looked lost, and her blue eyes darted across the scene multiple times before she saw me.

I laughed in relief and laced her fingers with mine.

Miley smiled.

"Hey," I said, grinning like a fool, so happy she was awake and okay that I didn't have the heart to be mad at her.

"Hey," Miley giggled. I gave her a good, long kiss.

"You saved me." Miley stated, noticing my wet hair and clothing.

"Yeah. I did."

"You jumped off that cliff for me?" Miley asked in awe and admiration.

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"What were you _thinking_?" Miley laughed.

"I dunno," I chuckled.

"You're _lovesick_," Miley said and pulled herself into a seating position.

"Anyone would be if they were going out with you," I laughed.

Miley blushed in response.

Miley was silent as she stared at me straight in the eyes, apparently taking in the moment, and my face.

Miley looked down and gulped, and her beautiful face unexpectedly twisted into a forlorn, beaten and hopeless face.

I hated seeing her like that.

"You aren't going to get mad at me?" Miley said more quietly.

"Not now, at least."

"I—I know, Jake. That was a really stupid thing to do. I just—I j-just—" Miley sat up quickly. "It's hard to explain."

I didn't understand exactly.

How hard was it to explain? I wasn't sure at what she was getting at.

I blinked a couple time in confusion, and Miley seemed to notice I was troubled, for she said, "Look Jake, it's just that—"

But then at that very moment she seemed to notice Amanda, Halley, Craig, and Mark behind me.

"Oh God," Miley muttered in horror, clutching my hand. "Look who's _behind _you—we just _kissed_—"

"No Miley—I-I told them. I just—I _had _to. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so," Miley muttered quietly.

She looked down at her lap, and sighed.

Miley finally extended her hand towards me, and I helped her get up.

"You sure you're okay?" I asked seriously, facing her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"You don't feel—sick, or anything?"

"Naw, I'm perfect. I feel 100!"

Miley's POV:

I faked a smile.

I knew that was too overenthusiastic, and Jake wouldn't buy that at all, but I wasn't going to have him all overprotective on me again.

I had wanted to die. I had wanted to drown in that water.

Jake saving me had not been part of the plan.

I loved him and all but…life was too much. Too much for me to handle.

So I had to go with it. I had to pretend I was fine with everything, A-okay.

Why?

Because I didn't want to tell. I didn't want to tell everyone what my troubles were.

That information was for me. Me only. I didn't want people butting into my life about stuff that isn't their business.

I had already embarrassed myself enough, clinging onto the cliff for dear life, thinking that I'd wake up in a sort of Heaven.

But no. I hadn't.

Jake had jumped in a saved me, and now I was alive.

And no.

I was not okay.

My back ached like hell, and I was sure my wrist was broken, but I wasn't going to say that, was I?

I had swallowed so much freaking water that I felt nauseous.

And I wasn't _really _going to tell Jake what the matter was, right?

Jake noticed I was in deep thought.

I felt him take my hand again.

"Miley," he said in such a soft voice that my heart melted. "When we get back home, everything will be better. I promise. Just hold on tight until then. Okay? Be happy. I'm right here for you. I always will be. "

I nodded numbly.

It just mattered that I got home safely. I had to pretend I cared. I had to play "happy".

"So…" Craig started, swinging his arms back and forth. "I guess we should start finding our way back."

"Yeah…" Halley agreed.

"So…how? Where are we? How are we going to get back?" Craig asked worriedly, about to hyperventilate.

"Calm down, Craig. It's all fine," Halley reassured him.  
How _were _we supposed to get back, exactly? We had a time deadline.

"What time is it?" I asked in the silence. "I don't have a watch on me."

"I don't—I don't have a watch or anything. My cell's on the bus," Mark muttered.

"My cell just turned off. It's got no more battery," Halley whined, tapping her cell phone, and restraining herself from smashing it against the ground in frustration.

"My cell went out when I went in the water," Jake murmured, shaking his head. "As did my watch."

"I _still _don't have a cell phone. My parents don't trust me," Craig said angrily. "And, I don't even _own _a watch."

Everyone's heads shifted over to Amanda.

She shrugged, "What?"

"Do you know the time?"

"Nope. My cell phone is wacko. Sorry. Do _you _know what the time is?" Amanda asked, turning her head to us.

"Ugh!" I muttered in frustration, putting my hand to my forehead, and dropping onto the floor.

"Great," Halley grumpily said, examining her nails.

"_Perfect_," I swore I heard Amanda say under her breath.

I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, or not.

A/N: long chapter. at least for me it is. woulda updated sooner, but i was on vacation. kinda boring actually.

It also took me a while cause I spent so long editing it! hope u liked it!!

btw, i did not forget about the penpal thing. u'll see where that comes in.

And trust me, I would not kill a character. yeah...


	30. Chapter 30

Miley's POV:  
So great. No we were stuck here.

We started playing Chopsticks out of boredom, but that just made us even more bored. Then Halley came up with hand games, so everyone paired up. I sat at the side, as I couldn't sing (because then people would make the connection with Hannah and blah blah blah…). Since that would make an odd number, Jake sat next to me.

I stared off at everyone else, laughing to myself. They looked so silly like that…

"Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack all dressed in black, black, black—" Halley sang off-key, slapping her hands against an uncooperative Amanda, who half-heartedly added, "—with silver buttons, buttons…"

Jake followed my gaze and laughed along.

"Oh, come on, Amanda! Put some more enthusiasm into it!" Jake called to her jokingly.

Amanda smirked, and Halley continued drawling on in that awful singing voice of hers.

"How long do you suppose we're going to be here?" Jake asked me.

"Hopefully not for that long."

"Hmm," Jake murmured. He took my hand.

Lilly's POV:

"Valerie Rankin?" Mr. Corelli belted out over the noise our grade was making.

"Here!" Valerie waved behind me, standing on her tiptoes.

Why were they making so much noise? I was surely going to miss my name…

What did they _have _to talk about _right _now? Couldn't that talking wait?

I surveyed the scene. Every one was jabbering, their mouths moving too fast for me too read their lips.

"Ollie," I tapped Oliver's arm next to me. "What's everyone talking about?"

Oliver shrugged. "I dunno. Ask."

"How about you?" I whined.

"Why can't it be you?" Oliver raised his eyebrows.

"Both of us," I said.

"What?"

"Both of us," I repeated louder.

"Oh, okay," said Oliver.

"Olivia, what happened?" I asked impatiently to Olivia who was gabbing to a murky looking Kayla.

"Yeah, what's everyone talking about?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms.

"Well—" Olivia started.

"Halley Reynolds?" Mr. Corelli hollered.

No answer.

"Halley Reynolds, again?"

Nothing.

"Well, what?" I asked.

"_That_," Kayla muttered.

"Wha—"

"Does anyone know where Halley Reynolds is?" Mr. Corelli bellowed out into the crowd.

"No…" everyone chorused.

"Marc Russell…is Marc Russell here?"  
Nothing.

The crowd finally quieted.

"No one?" Mr. Corelli furrowed his eyebrows.

Everyone shook his or her heads.

"Craig Rustman? Craig Rustman, anywhere?" Mr. Corelli asked hopefully, starting to get paranoid.

Nothing.

Oliver sent me a look.

"Please…Jake Ryan…Jake Ryan, are you here?" Mr. Corelli asked with difficulty.

Mr. Corelli's eyes flickered downward for a second.

He took a big breath and called, "Amanda Sherwood…I supposed Amanda Sherwood isn't here either."

Everyone looked to their sides to check if Amanda was there, but everyone shook their heads.

"M-Miley S-Stewart? Is Miley Stewart h-here?" Mr. Corelli ran his tongue over his teeth nervously.

There was no answer.

Where was Miley? Why were all these people missing? Where _were _they? Were they okay? Were they _safe_?

I'd never be able to forgive myself if Miley weren't safe—I knew that I had offended her, and she'd been giving me the silent treatment for the longest time ever, and what if I never saw her again, and we were still in the middle of the fight?

"Oliver—" I choked. "Oliver, Miley's missing."

"I heard," Oliver said uneasily back, squeezing my hand. "Hold on tight; I promise she'll be alright."

I rested my head on Oliver's shoulder as a frantic Mr. Corelli paced around.

"Alice Storms? Is Alice Storms here?" Mr. Corelli asked, ready for a disappointment.

"Here," muttered a girl gloomily from the front of the crowd of students.

"Ah," Mr. Corelli said. "So it is only that hiking group then…. Does anyone know where they might be—?"

"Wait!" shouted a voice from the back. It was Jackie, and her hand stuck out high from the crowd like a green thumb. "I saw that group…I saw them near this cliff…"

"Jackie," Mr. Corelli said eagerly. "Jackie, come here, right now."

Jackie snaked her way through the crowd, and started talking quickly to Mr. Corelli, who nodded and nodded.

I was beginning to grow very impatient as they kept on discussing.

I needed to help find Miley.

Even though I knew it wasn't, why did it feel like it was my entire fault? What if Miley died out there? They had nothing to eat! And the moon was surely going to rise into the sky soon…

"Ollie, what's the time?" I asked.

Oliver snapped open his cell phone.

"Almost five."

"Already? Oh, I hope we find Miley before nightfall!"

"Yeah—whoa wait; _we_?" Oliver backtracked.

"Yes. _We_. I'm not going to _wait_ until they find Miley. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life if I didn't go look for her—come on, Oliver. I know I was mad at her, but Miley is still either way our best friend. We need to pay her back for all the times she's helped us."

"But what if…she's dead?" Oliver said in a small voice.

"Oliver! Don't say those things," I said quietly, my voice quivering.

"So…how do we—?" Oliver asked.

"Look…I've got a bit of an idea…let's ask Mr. Corelli if we can maybe help Jackie look for them…and if not…well—we'd go anyway…" I said trailing off.

"Lilly! But what if we go looking for them without telling Mr. Corelli, and they leave without us?"

"They won't leave without the missing students. I mean really, what in the world do they tell the parents?" I asked.

"I dunno, Lilly…" Oliver replied. "Maybe…maybe this isn't the best—"

"Oliver! I know Miley's been weird lately, but she's still someone we care about. Now, let's just at least _ask _if we can go help look for her…"

I pulled Oliver by his sleeve over the very front of the crowd, and to Mr. Corelli.

"Mr. Corelli—we wanna help find Miley," I blurted all in one breath.

Jackie looked bewildered, as in, Who would want to go look for someone and risk their lives?

"You want to help find the missing students?" Mr. Corelli massaged his chin. "Well…alright…I guess you could. And take Miss Jackie with you."

Jackie's eyes went wide with horror.

"Will you wait for us?" Oliver asked.

"Yes," Mr. Corelli said. "Of course. We won't leave until we find the missing group. I mean, what would we say to the parents?"

I threw Oliver look. But this was no time for jokes, yet I realized that after.

"Okay, then," I said, for some reason starting to get nervous. "Well…come on Jackie…"

I grabbed her arm and started to pull her away with me and Oliver, when Mr. Corelli yelled, "Wait! Here, take some flashlights. And do you have my cell phone number?"

I looked up at the darkening sky. Wow. It was starting to get dark, fast.

_Oh please, Miley. Please, please be okay. _

Mr. Corelli handed us flashlights, and gave Oliver his cell number.

"Good luck," I heard Mr. Corelli say as we disappeared into the darkness.

The forest was a lot creepier at night then during the day. I didn't believe in those scary movies but…wow, this was spooky.

The green leaves of the plants and trees looked black, but then one plant to the side caught my eye.

It was a strange looking plant that was glowing red. The tips of its leaves were shaped oddly, and I stopped and leaned in for a better look.

"Oliver, Jackie…" I said. "Look at this plant…it is like…red…"

They both stepped over quietly, the mere sound of crunching twigs under our feet filling my ears.

Jackie and Oliver and I didn't say anything.

We just stared at the red plant that seemed to light up the thick, dark forest.

Was it magic? I'd never know.

"Maybe…maybe it's a sign…" Jackie said finally, in all the silence.

"Maybe…" Oliver and I said at the same time.

I looked at him. I could see his face by the faint glow of red the plant provided, and I knew he had seen my face for he took my hand again.

"Let's drop rocks," Oliver said randomly.

"What?" Jackie asked.

"Let's make a little trail with rocks, like Hansel and Gretel."

"Oliver! What a brilliant idea! For once!" I replied happily, getting excited.

"Hey!" Oliver faked offended.

We all gathered rocks, trying to make them as close to the same size as we could.

"Let's go this way," I sighed, bringing both of them with me as I went on, imagining Miley and the rest of the group scrambling through the same brush we were fighting through. Jackie went behind, placing rocks on the ground and making a little trail.

------------------------------

We finally came to a dusty, orange cliff, and I had a feeling this were Miley and the rest might be.

"Yes! This looks familiar. This might be the cliff they were at," Jackie said eagerly.

I shone my flashlight down the cliff, and screamed in delight when I saw six teens, bored out of there minds, curled up or sitting on the dusty ground next to a strong flowing river.

"Miley!" I called out in excitement.

One darkened face whipped around quickly. I could tell she was smiling, even by just the dim light of my flashlight.

"Lilly! Oliver!" Miley called out happily. She started to jump a little, and woke up Jake who'd been sleeping.

Miley's POV:

"Jake!" I cried, tapping Jake hard on the shoulder. "Look who's here!"

I pointed to the top of the cliff, where Lilly, Oliver, and Jackie stood, peering over the edge at us.

"Yes! Oh, this is great news! We can finally go home. Guys! Everyone! Lilly, Oliver, and Jackie all came to take us back!"

Everyone jolted up quickly, and gathered the little stuff we had.

"We'll be right there, okay?" I called up to them.

The group of us ran up the side of the cliff, the route that Halley had conveniently discovered before, and I hugged Lilly and Oliver at once.

"Oh, Lilly! Oliver! How did you—?" I asked.

"Mr. Corelli did an attendance roll call, and you guys weren't there, so we volunteered to go look for you guys," Oliver explained.

"Aww! Guys, you are the _best_! And Jackie, you volunteered for me? Thank you so much!" I hugged Jackie out of just relief and happiness.

"Lilly, I am _so_ sorry I was mad at you, I just—you embarrassed me, and I should have said sorry, and I didn't and—" I started rambling.

"No Miley—it's okay. I understand. I'm sorry too," Lilly asked, pulling me into another hug.

I was just relieved I didn't have to explain more.

"Wait—Lilly…how are we going to get back?" I asked in sudden realization.

"To where?" Lilly asked.

"To the bus!" I shouted.

"Oh! Well, missy, we're way ahead of you on that one," Lilly laughed. "By the way, did you know that Oliver _actually _has brains?"

"Hey!" Oliver said.

We all laughed.

Lilly continued, "Yeah, so…he actually came up with a good idea of making a little trail—"

"Like in Hansel and Gretel!" I blurted.

"Yes, yes!" Lilly nodded. "Like in Hansel and Gretel! So we made a trail of rocks."

"Great idea, Oliver," I said. He grinned foolishly. It was nice to be back with my best friends.

--------------------------------------------------------------

We were back in the bus. It hadn't been all that hard to find our way back, and you know what? Mr. Corelli actually _hugged _me when he saw us. Okay, so he hugged everyone, and I think the only reason he was glad we came back was because he didn't want to get fired and he wanted to go home real bad 'cause he was hungry.

I didn't realize how amazingly exhausted I was until I finally rested my head on Jake's shoulder on the bus.

Amanda was glaring at us, I could tell, but I was too tired to care. I could feel my eyes drooping, and soon enough, I knew I was asleep.

Amanda's POV:

So…I'd failed.

I knew Miley was depressed, but I didn't think she was _that _depressed. I didn't think she's want to commit suicide. And I didn't know she'd hold on to the edge of the cliff. I thought that she'd just go…sailing over the edge. Like that. Easy. In a snap.

And then when she let go, well, who would of thought that Jake would dive in a save her like that? Not me, definitely not me. I didn't think they were _that _in love. No two kids our age usually are. We're only fourteen! No one falls _madly _in love. No boyfriend would risk his life for his girlfriend at _fourteen_ years old. I understand if they are a bit older, but really.

And I don't know what came over me, but I sort of…I dunno…_froze_. It hurt me to see Miley hurt, and it hurt me even more to know that I was the one that caused her that hurt. My heart just sunk when I saw her crying crazily, and holding onto the cliff for her dear life. Her life was so horrible and wretched, yet I knew that when she was clinging onto the edge…I knew that deep inside of her she was reconsidering living. And, gosh, when she plunged into the water…I thought she was dead. I truly did. Along with everyone else. And I had killed her. I had killed her. And it didn't sink in at first, but as Halley pulled me down the hill, it sunk in.

Guilt washed over me like a salty tidal wave, pulling me under and holding me down as a punishment, until I couldn't breathe, and then when it knew I had learned my lesson, the wave pushed me up to the surface and washed me over onto the shore.

And I tried to spit out all the filthy guilt, all the salty, nasty guilt that had spilled into me, but it stayed. It stayed and poisoned me. It sunk in.

I had killed someone.

I had cut someone's life short.

Someone who could've had a long, beautiful life filled with laughter and love.

And someone was telling me…someone was telling me it over and over…

_You killed Miley, Amanda. _

And it was playing over and over in my head like a broken record.

_You killed someone, Amanda._

_You killed someone, Amanda._

_You killed someone, Amanda._

_You killed someone, Amanda. _

And it just kept playing, and playing, and playing…over and over again…and I was so shocked, so dumbstruck…I felt like someone had punctured my lungs and I was deflating…I had no breath left in my body, and no matter how many desperate gasps of air I took in, none of them could keep my living.

I wanted to scream, but I just couldn't. I felt sick.

I gripped onto the armrests hard enough so that my knuckles turned white.

I felt suddenly claustrophobic on the bus, and I felt like I had to get out of the bus.

Out.

I got up quickly, and started to walk very fast—

"Amanda? Amanda, where are you going?" I could hear Miley's faint voice in the background, but I kept going.

I ignored all the quizzical faces peering up at me from the seats.

I squeezed into the small bathroom in the back, and locked the door.

And then I sat down on the toilet and cried.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amanda's POV:

Miley was a living breathing person like me…I wouldn't want someone killing _me _like that…no matter how much they wanted their boyfriend or…and then it _really _sank in to me.

I didn't want to this. I didn't _really _want to this. As my chest moved up and down, and my head aching with so many thoughts trampling over one another, I knew that I was a good person. I _was_. Deep down. Deep down through all the layers of fakeness, I knew I was good.

If only someone knew—if only someone knew how bad I was treated at home—I hadn't told Miley even a quarter of it…if only someone knew how desperately I wanted a friend…how lonely I was.

I had no one. Kayla was not a friend. Kayla was a traitor and a user. I knew that she used me. I knew she used me to become popular.

And you know what? I don't want to be popular. After all, it isn't as glamorous as you'd think.

It _is_ true. When you are popular, you have no real friends. I had "friends": kids who'd die to be my best friend, right? But none of them actually _were_. None of them would ever see me as a real person.

I cried more and more, for everything. My makeup had surely washed away, and I knew that my mascara was dripping.

I was making up for all the times I had wanted to cry, but didn't.

"Amanda?"

I covered my mouth and tried not to cry, and I gulped down every sorrowful sob as best as I could.

Miley knocked.

"Amanda!"

But my emotions were too much for me too keeps down, and I soon found myself sobbing, and gasping all at once, unable to breathe.

I cried and cried about everything and everyone—for my pitiful life; for my popularity; for my lack of real friends; for being unloved; for Garrett—God, I missed Garrett.

I kept sobbing, on and on, unstoppable, choking and choking; my tears kept falling and falling, gasping for breath; crying, crying…crying…

"Are you crying?" I heard Miley say.

And then I couldn't hear anymore.

And I couldn't see anymore.

Because everything went

Black.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miley's POV:

Without realizing what I was doing, I started kicking the door of the small bathroom, screaming Amanda's name over and over, wishing she'd open the door, smile her radiant smile at me, and say it was a joke.

"AMANDA!" I screamed.

I felt tears run down my face, and my burning-red cheeks grow hotter and hotter with every kick and pound at the door.

I knew people were looking at me.

But I just couldn't stop myself.

Why was I getting so emotional all of a sudden?

Out of nowhere, two large chubby hands snatched my wrists from behind me, sending chills rippling down my spine like ice water, and it was so abrupt I screamed again.

I closed my eyes in fright, my body feeling unusually fragile as it shook uncontrollably, and I could just barely hear behind me:

"Ms. Stewart! Get your act together! Do you know how much these buses cost to rent? I _knew _we should have gotten just regular ones…well, anyway…what is going _on_?"

"Mr. Correlli—" I heard a voice so incredibly familiar that it warmed my heart instantly, as if someone had drizzled it in hot fudge.

"Excuse me, Ms. Stewart!" Mr. Correlli cut off. "_Answer me_: WHAT is going ON?"

I couldn't say anything. I just couldn't.

I was numbed.

"Mr. Correlli, really, just take your time with her, she very delicate—"

"What? _What_? Do _you _want her? Take her, then. Take her for all I care."

And Mr. Correlli thrust me too brutally into a familiar, warm pair of arms, which engulfed me immediately and he started kissing the top of my head.

"Miley, Miley, Miley…" Jake murmured softly into my hair. He rubbed my back in circles, and I felt foolish.

What was this, the millionth time Jake was comforting me? I felt like a pathetic little…little—I didn't know…I didn't want to say it. When had _I_ comforted _him_?

"I—I—" I gulped through tears, hardly being able to breathe. "I feel so—so—"

"Breathe, Miley. Calm down," Jake said soothingly, smoothing out my hair.

I gasped some more, and when I finally gained some sense again, I sputtered out in a whisper, "People are staring, aren't they?"  
I didn't need an answer. I knew.

Jake didn't say anything.

He cleared his throat.

"Let's get back to our seat," Jake coughed, nudging my back in the direction of the aisle.

"NO!" I found myself shouting. "_Amanda_! Amanda is locked in the bathroom! She won't answer me! What if something happened to her?"

More heads turned to us.

I tried my best to ignore them, but I just couldn't.

"STOP!" I hollered so loud my throat hurt. "WHAT are you _looking_ at? THERE IS _NOTHING_ TO LOOK AT! So STOP!"

I started to kick the door of the bathroom again, as I could knock it down, when really it was to get out my anger.

"Miley!" Jake rushed to my side, and pulled me away by arms firmly.

Jake's POV:

I grabbed Miley hard by her upper arms and faced her to me.

She had this crazy look of misery and confusion on her face, her blues eyes strewn with blotches of gray, it seemed. Angry tears were running down her hot, red face.

She didn't look anything like herself.

"Who y-you?" she slurred. "Mommy? Daddy, is Mommy dead? Mommy?"

I put one of my hands to her burning forehead.

I was scared.

I was honestly scared.

But it wasn't like this was the first time.

"Miley," I said as calmly as I could, for I was growing extremely desperate, "Miley, sit down. Just rest. Okay? I promise I'll get Amanda out."

Miley didn't even nod to me in response. Her head rolled around her neck uncontrollably like she was a rag doll, and she murmured softly, "Mommy?"

I nodded.

"Mommy's alive," I said uneasily. "You can go see Mommy once you rest, okay?"

Miley nodded like a little girl, her head still lolling around, making me uncomfortable.

I guided her back to her seat, and tucked a blanket around her, and cushioned her head with a pillow.

Then I went back to see if I could get Amanda out of the bathroom.

"Amanda!" I called, rapping my knuckles against the door. "Can you hear me?"

No response.

Even after fifteen minutes of that, over and over, I got no answer, or even noise.

And then I got an idea.

I was lucky I was so addicted to these spy movies.

And it was pretty obvious and simple too…


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Jake's POV:  
I made my way back to my seat, where Miley was staring bloodshot at the seat in front of her, not blinking, and her blue eyes wide and dripping with tears.

"Miley!" I waved a hand before her unfocused eyes.

She snapped back to earth in less than an instant, and started crying immediately, in large messy sobs.

Once again, I took Miley into my lap and soothed her, rubbing her back.

This was going to be a long ride back.

"I-I saw—I s-saw m-my mo—m-mo—" gulped Miley through sobs.

"Shh…" I whispered gently.

"I-I m-miss-s h-her a—a—a l-lot-t-t—" Miley gasped.

"Just breathe, Miley. I know how to get Amanda out."

It was like she couldn't hear me.

She just kept sobbing into my chest and squeezing my hand.

But I understood. I knew that her mother was a big deal to her.

It took a while for Miley to fully calm down; maybe two hours or so.

Her head had remained on my chest, her hand still laced with mine; she had been very quiet for some time now, but I didn't want to say anything or move incase she was sleeping, but I decided I needed to find out either way, so I whispered very _very _softly: "Miley?"

"Yeah?" Miley whispered without turning to me.

"I know how to get Amanda out."

"Really?" Miley said tearfully. She sounded like she was only half-listening and still thinking about her mother.

"Yeah, but we'd have to wait until we get off the bus at home until we can go get her out," I said, starting to play with her hair.

"Okay," Miley whispered just barely audibly.

There was a long stretch of silence.

"Are you all right?" I asked finally into her ear.

I heard her gulp.

"Fine," she said unconvincingly.

"You sure?" I asked again.

"P-Positive."

"Well…just tell me if you need anything…or want to talk…or something."

"Sure will," she said half-heartedly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lovebirds!" I woke up to a fat hand snapping in my face. "Wake up!"

I looked around the bus to see it empty, and Mr. Correlli peering down at Miley (who was remarkably still sleeping) and I.

"S-Sorry, Mr. Correlli, we just sort of dozed off—" I started.

"Hurry up!" He ordered. "And when you get off you can go home."

"Okay."

I didn't want to wake Miley up, but it seemed like Mr. Correlli would anyway.

He kept staring at me.

"Go!" he barked. "Get out _now_! I'm not paying extra to the driver because of you two!"

I nudged Miley gently.

"Miley, Miley," I repeated. "Wake up."

After the third time she finally woke up and I gathered our backpacks, and headed off the bus.

Just as we were about to leave the bus, Miley yelled wide-eyed, "_Amanda_! Amanda is still in the bathroom!"

She turned to dart down the aisle, but I caught her arm.

"Miley, I have a plan. Remember? I told you before."

"No…I don't remember. All I know is that _we need to get Amanda out of that bathroom_!" Miley hollered impatiently.

"Miley! Calm down!" I replied hoarsely.

"I won't calm down until I _know _that Amanda is out of that bathroom!" she shouted.

"Come," I said pulling her with me off the bus. "I know what to do."

"_What_?" she asked rudely.

"I have a genius plan."

"And…?"

"We climb through the window," I stated proudly.

"_That's _your genius plan?" Miley roared. "Well, Einstein, there are flaws in that one! The window is really high on the bus, how do we get it _open_, and who's going through it?"

"You."

"_Me_?" Miley asked in horror, taking a step back.

"You heard me, Miley. I know you did. You'll stand on me and hit open the window—"

"Just _hit _it open?" Miley asked in disbelief. "You know I'm not that strong!"

"Miley, I believe—"

"Don't give me that 'I believe in you' crap, you hear me?"

"I know you can do it though!" I fought.

"I can't—" Miley whined.

"You _can_!"

"I can't, I really can't—" Miley pouted.

"Miley! Look at me! You _can_!"

"Nooooo! I can't, I just—" Miley shook her head wildly.

"What's happened with your self esteem these days, eh? What? You haven't been yourself lately—" I started but was cut off.

"I can't, I can't, I can't—" Miley continued.

"Why can't you just _try _it?" I bursted. "Just _try _it, and if you can't do it, I _WILL_!"

Miley quieted a bit, and said quietly after a quiet moment, "Should I take off my shoes?"

"Yes," I breathed out, angry with myself for having screamed at her. She looked so sad and innocent that I felt extremely guilty. "You should stand on my shoulders."

"Okay," she said, untying her sneakers, and laying them near her backpack on the asphalt.

I stood just under the bathroom window, and crouched down so Miley could stand on my shoulders. She was surprisingly heavier than the last time I had picked her up….

"So just bust open the window with your fist."

"This is retarded!" Miley cried. "I'm going to end up breaking my hand!"

"Fine," I said, unwilling to start another screaming fight. "What can we used to like…unhinge it?"

"I don't _know_!" Miley scoffed.

"_Fine_," I replied, getting annoyed. "I'll do open the window."

I bent my knees a little, and Miley hopped off my back with a thud.

"I can't lift you!" Miley shouted frustrated.

"Fine! Then you open it!" I shouted back.

Miley's POV:  
"Why don't you just call the damn firemen?" I yelled.

I couldn't take it! Why was this so hard? Why was _Jake _making this so freaking hard?  
"I don't know!" he hollered back.

I didn't realize that I was walking toward him in anger.

"SO?" I roared. "Why _don't you_?"

"Well—" Jake paused for a split second in thought, and then quickly continued. "Why not _you_?"

I inched my face closer to his.

"I don't have a cell phone on me," I gritted through my teeth.

"Well mine's broken!" Jake moved his face so close to mine that our noses were touching.

"Use that pay phone!" I shouted, pointing to the payphone behind me.

"I don't have any money!" Jake yelled back.

"CALL 911, you idiot!" I shouted back.

"I don't have any money! I told you already!" Jake spat.

Unfortunately, my mouth was still open in anger, and he spat in my mouth.

"Ew!" I whined. "Jake! You _spat in my mouth_!"

"Who cares? We've kissed before!" Jake said back.

"Still!" I fought.

"It's the same saliva!"

"But _still_!" I whimpered.

"Exactly! But still, it's just the same saliva as when we kiss—" Jake clamped his hand at the back of my neck, and planted a short kiss on me. "Okay? Get over it! I'm sorry!" Jake was breathing heavy. His eyes had been staring at his feet, but slowly, they moved up to my head, and soon enough I found his enchanting green eyes staring down into mine. He added in a much softer voice, "I'm sorry."

I found my mouth curving into a smile for some reason.

"Me too," I grinned, and kissed him back.

Jake blushed. I blushed back.

"Anyway…you don't need money to call 911. I would of thought you knew that!" I laughed.

Jake looked embarrassed. I suddenly wished I had phrased that differently….

"Well…you know I'm not the brightest person ever, Miley," Jake joked easily.

"Sorry if I embarrassed you," I apologized.

"That's okay." Jake smiled.

He took my hand.

"Do you wanna call or…?" I started.

"I'll call," Jake replied, pulling with me with him by the hand as he walked over to the payphone.

He dialed with one finger, and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?…Seaview High School, Malibu. 12 Seaview Road…Jake Ryan, Miley Stewart…Amanda Sherwood…" it went on like that.

Jake hung the phone.

"What?" I sighed.

"They'll be here asap," he said heavily.

"Okay," I whispered mostly to myself.

_Okay_…_okay_...

If I was okay, then why was I shaking?

-----------

A/N: okay, so I really wanna skip the part when they get Amanda out of the bathroom, but I will tell you what actually happened to Amanda through Miley's thoughts. Would that be okay? Sorry, it would just be that writing all of that would be such a huge filler, I don't want to bore you guys. I know this chapter was a filler too, but I have to get to where I need to get, and to get there, I needed this. Also, I added that little eensy fight to remind everyone that Jake and Miley's relationship is not perfect, because I know that there are people out there who think it is…anyway, thank you BUNCHES for all those reviews! WOW!! Thanks again! Sorry these are coming so slow, but I _do _have schoolwork you know…


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana

Miley's POV:

What a pleasant surprise waiting for us on that other side of the bus's bathroom door. Catch the sarcasm.

The firemen had busted the door open with special tools and found Amanda on the floor.

I didn't believe it. I couldn't believe it.

Amanda was—

I couldn't say it. Even though I knew in my head it was true.

You know what I'm talking about.

Finish the sentence.

She was knotted up in there on the floor, just lying limp, motionless.

And I couldn't blink; I couldn't breathe. My lungs had punctured.

I bet they had.

And then I just started to cry. I cried into Jake and just cried and cried.

And Jake told me over and over that Amanda was alive, when I knew it was just a fake lie.

Amanda was dead.

No one would even try to tell me she was alive, because I knew she was dead.

It was like something died inside of _me_ as it sunk in.  
Something inside of me felt empty, my soul felt lopsided, like the part that died had been a leg to a chair and now since the leg had been chopped off, the chair couldn't stand up properly…that's how my soul felt. Drained of spirit and lopsided like a usually four-legged chair missing one leg.

Jake's POV:  
We hardly had to wait for the firemen (luckily).

They came fast, and opened the door rather easily after unhinging it with some of their own unique gear. They left immediately after, not even saying anything to us.

I hesitantly took a beat before peeping in the bathroom. I didn't even want to know what was on the other side once it was time for me to look. I just didn't want know what happened of Amanda. The firemen had just left without a word. Did they just not want to deal with what was on the other side of the door? Did they just want to let us deal with all of it? That was honestly remarkably rude, but I guess it _was _for the best in the end; but still. I just didn't want to look. Finally, after I saw Miley with her blue eyes faded gray, frightened to death, and hugging her, I realized I was doing this for her. I was finding out about Amanda for Miley. My thoughts were only tripping over each other.

I finally checked in. My mouth dropped. I found that I couldn't speak when I saw Amanda on the floor near the toilet, twisted in a uncomfortable position, hands this way and feet crossing the other way.

I knew Miley'd seen cause she was right behind me.

She had tears in her eyes, which were bugging out grossly. She wasn't blinking again.

Her expression was empty, yet terrified. Her face was white, whiter than a sheet of paper.

If that's possible, of course.

Just in her fallen face, I could tell she _seriously _though Amanda was truly dead.

Her mouth was so wide open that I thought you could fit a car through it.

"Miley," I said, waving my hand in front of her eyes, and shaking her shoulders. "She just might still be alive—"

And of course, Miley burst into tears into my chest again, and of course, I had to soothe her and rub her hair. I was honestly getting a bit sick of the routine, but I had to be there for her.

Miley sniffled into my shirt, and I wiped some of her falling tears.

"Miley—" I started, "Miley I bet she's still alive—I-I swear you—"

"You know it yourself," Miley sobbed to me angrily. "You know it. You know she's dead! Just say it!"  
"No, Miley! No, no, I bet she's still alive—I bet you anything—" I started to say.

"Don't even!" Miley continued to sob. "Don't even—just don't even try to sell me a lie!"

"Miley, just check her—"

But she just continued to wail frenziedly, and started to flail all over the place.

Miley's POV:

No one could tell me it was untrue!

I knew. I _knew_.

I wasn't retarded or something! Just because I was little…troubled…didn't mean I was mentally retarded! I had a life! I _did_! …Right? I hope so.

I was just so confused about everything. What was I supposed to do?

How was I supposed to go along everyday?

I suddenly felt lightheaded. Very lightheaded. And dizzy. Extremely dizzy.

So another one, eh? Another person gone! You're going to have a collection soon, aren't you missy, at this rate, huh? How about that! Wow…pathetic.

_Another one down. Another one…tut, tut. _

_Tsk, tsk. _

'_Cause she's _really _gone now, Miley. For real. _

_For real and for—_

—ever.

I know. She's gone. And she's not going back. She's stuck in a place where I can't reach her…

Forever—

Forever— 

And ever—"

And ever— 

And for the rest of my life—

And for the rest of your pathetic, measly, miserable life.

Two was already too much—but three…three was over the top completely.

_Completely._

"Miley! Miley!" Jake was waving his hand in front on my face, but I barely noticed.

My head was throbbing with unbearable pain. I absentmindedly but my hand to my forehead and immediately snatched it away. It was burning hot. My head was on fire.

You are weak.

_So incredibly weak. _

_Pathetically weak. _

I was so dizzy that I was groped all over the place, this way and that, grabbing onto whatever I could; an armrest, or a chair shoulder. My legs gave away, and I fell onto the ground, hitting my head against the hard plastic side of one chair, and wanting to cry.

_No one likes you._

_No one wants you._

_No one cares._

And then I passed out.

No time for tears this time.

A/N: Sorry it was short! I've been busy!! Thanks for reviewing! gotta jet!


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.

Miley's POV:

"Miley!" Jake was snapping in front of my face.

My eyes fluttered open.

I was on the floor.

There were two blondes poring at me from above. One boy, one girl…they must be Jake and Amanda…

Wait…backtrack…_AMANDA?!?!?_

I sat up much to fast, making my head hurt, but I couldn't care less: _Amanda_?? I was confused. I breathlessly pointed at Amanda, and stared wide-eyed at Jake.

I couldn't speak.

My words were clogged in my throat.

"I told you." Those were the first words Jake said to me. "I told you she was alive."

"Well sorry!" I said angrily.

I don't know what made me say that. It just came out of me. I don't even know why I was so cranky….

"Miles, you need to trust me!" he shouted back.

"I do!" I cried.

"It didn't seem like it!" he said back.

"Well sorry, I was just a bit stressed! Don't you think?!" I stood up angrily.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amanda slowing backing away. Even disheveled, she still looked gorgeous. But I didn't have enough time to be envious.

"Excuse me?" Jake thundered, and stood up suddenly too.

"I do trust you! I do!"

"Act like it! Okay? Right now, it really seems like I'm just your slave. Your servant. Nothing to you—" Jake rambled angrily.

"Not true—" I choked.

"—It's like I mean nothing to you. You mean something to me, Miley! Believe it or not, you do—"

"And you mean something to me!" I cried back.

"DON'T even try to sell me that okay? I try to do good for you, and you just take. You take, take, take, take, take. And I give, give, give, give, give. And I'm _sick _of that. I want something too. I try to make you feel loved, yet you don't make _me _feel loved."

"That's not true! I do make you feel loved!" I fumed. I wasn't going to believe it…it wasn't true!

"You do not Miley. You do _not_. STOP LYING TO ME!" Jake stormed. For one of the first times ever, there were tears in _his _eyes.

"I don't want to fight," I whispered, shaking my head.

We were NOT breaking up…we _weren't_…uh-uh…no WAY…I needed Jake…I did, I did!

"You started it," Jake said defensively.

"What? Now you're _really _making no sense! I can't believe—that—_ugh_!" I felt like crying.

"Um…stop," Amanda said in a scared voice from a far corner.

Neither of us paid any attention to her.

"Yes, you did! You started this fight!" Jake said again.

"I—did—NOT!" I fumed back, so furious that I thought my head would pop off.

"YOU KNOW IT YOURSELF!" Jake screamed back.

"I need you! I do! And I love you! I do!" I cried.

"Show me! Okay? SHOW ME! Show me you need me. Show me you love me. I needed you. I loved you," Jake shouted.

"Needed—loved—?" I asked confused.

_Needed_?  
As in, past tense of the verb need?

_Loved_?

Meaning he used to love me? But no longer?

Before I knew it, I was sobbing into my own shirt.

"You know what else? I am _sick _of putting up with your stupid crying! Okay? I'm TIRED of it! Done!" Jake yelled.

I froze.

He froze.

Amanda froze.

"Done?" I asked quietly.

Everything stopped.

I stopped breathing.

I stopped thinking.

My heart stopped beating.

The world stopped spinning.

I felt dizzy. I put my hand to my forehead. It felt on fire.

"Done?" I asked again in a small voice, new tears coming to my eyes.

Jake breathed hard. He looked down at the floor, and then at his hands, then at his shoes, then at his hands…he wouldn't stop fidgeting.

"Jake…" I whispered, trying to catch his eye, but he just didn't want to look at me.

He was tapping his foot nervously against the floor.

"Jake…" I whispered again, my mouth numbing, and unsure of what to say next.

Feeling lightheaded, I sat down on an armrest, grabbing hold of the headrest for grip. I was so dizzy I knew I was just going to collapse.

Jake kept looking around impatiently. He looked out the window, then at his fingers, hands went in pockets, looked at the ceiling; hands came out of pockets, licked his lips, looked down at his shoes…it was uncontrollable for him.

I was growing more and more uncomfortable, and feeling more and more sick. I thought I was going to throw up.

What just _happened_?

"Uh…" Amanda gasped quietly from the corner. I had completely forgotten that she was there.

I ran my fingers through my hair over and over again, my hands were shaking and trembling furiously; I just couldn't stop.

My heart rate was speeding; faster and faster, higher and higher….

Jake cleared his throat. He still wasn't keeping still.

I needed Jake.

I _did_.

I loved Jake.

I _did_.

I wanted him.

I _did_.

I always _thought _I had been good to Jake…I always thought I had been a good girlfriend…and I always thought we had a good relationship…

Jake was my backbone.

My ultimate supporter.

One of my best friends.

Jake was part of me.

I couldn't function without him, without his help and love.

How could I ever be _done _with someone that meant so much to me?

"Done?" I whispered again out loud, more to myself than anyone.

Done was not possible.

I was never going to be done with Jake.

Done! Well look here, Miley! Lucky you, eh? Jake is breaking up with you. Jake is soooo breaking up with you. You know it yourself. He knows it too. He just doesn't know how to break it to you. But he knows. Oh, trust me…he knows. He can't look at you because he feels guilty.

Guilty, guilty, guilty.

"Jake…are you breaking up with me?" I blurted.

There was no answer. He just kept looking blankly around. Looking everywhere, fast, yet not at me.

"Jake," I said again.

He still wouldn't look at me.

Was it true?!

No, it couldn't be.

It _couldn't _be.

"_Jake_!" I snapped. "_Look _at me."

He didn't. I was getting frustrated.

"Jake, look at me," I breathed, white-hot tears spilling over the rim of my eyes and burning my cheeks. "Look at me. Please."

There was still no answer.

"I need you. I do. I love you. I swear it. I can show you. I promise. I can be better," I whispered through tears.

Still nothing.

He looked up and down, here, there, and all around.

But not at me.

I don't know how long it was like that.

Two minutes.

Twenty minutes.

One hour, or two.

I don't know; but it felt like days.

Weeks.

Months.  
Years.

_Endless_.

And I felt sick.

I just wanted to vomit, but I couldn't move. I couldn't move at all.

I looked out the window. It was pure black outside. Not even the moon shone that night. No stars, either.

My butt hurt from sitting so long. Without realizing it, I slid down the edge of the seat and onto the floor, sitting in a mess and uncomfortable position. But I couldn't move. I ran my fingers through my hair, again and again.

"Jake…done?" I whispered one last time, my voice quivering from tears.

I stared at him.

He didn't stare back.

Amanda looked up. She was slumped against the wall near the bathroom. She looked dead tired. She could barely keep her head up. Her drooping eyes lingered on me, then Jake.

"Done," Jake breathed quickly, and left the bus before I could fully react.

There goes my world.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

poooooooooor miley. poor poor girl. Roxi, wow, geez. props to you! i swear that i had that idea before, so great job. I hope i made this chapter as dramatic as I wanted it to be. I can always rewrite it. THANKS FOR REVIEWING!!!!! i am so sorry that i have been slow. i've just been super dee duper busy. You can start sending your questions in for the Q & A section i am doing at the end of this story, which should be soon. This story only has lets say...i dunno, four or five chapters left. i think i'll be moving onto zanessa fics after this. anyway...please start sending in questions now! Thanks! I know this story was a little confusing, that's why Im doing a Q & A section.

Current Song Stuck In My Head: Still There For Me by Corbin Bleu ft. Vanessa Hudgens


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana...or Skittles (are Skittles even in this chapter?? oh well if they're not).

Miley's POV:

I know it.

You're going to think I'm crazy. Out of my mind. Insane. Whatever you want to call me. And I know this is out-of-the-blue, compared to how I've been acting lately...

But...well...I understand.

I think I _actually _understand why Jake broke up with me.

I know. Shocking. I haven't understood anything lately. And I know that.

I think...I don't think we really _truly _loved each other. I mean, who are we trying to kid? We're too young for true love. And I understand that. I'm not living in a movie, or any kind of fiction. Jackson was right. Jackson was always telling me that child actors always get messed up lives in the end because they can't tell the difference between fiction and real life. He was right. I can't BELIEVE that Jackson was right. I _hate _when Jackson is right.

And when Jackson starts to make sense, that means things are serious. And bad. Serious and bad.

But I can wait. I can wait until I am older. Old enough to understand what love and life is really about.

I'd been overreacting.

I didn't need Jake.

I didn't love him.

But yeah, I did want him.

And maybe we'd get back together. Who knows. Maybe. We just need time. Time is key. Time is...time is just...time. I couldn't control time. Time had a mind of its own. Like any regular person.

Yet I still don't talk to Jake. A week has passed by since we've broken up, and I still can't even go without jumping three feet up in my chair everytime his name is said.

The other day we were in Health. And for a split second...he _looked _at me. His eyes connected with mine, and I froze. He did too. His eyes were stirred with glum and sadness, and tears filled my eyes. He broke away from the trance, shaking his head, and I pitifully tried to hold back my tears. I was hiccupping furiously in my seat from trying to keep from crying so hard, and when I just couldn't take it, I ran to the bathroom and cried.

But I understand. I DO. I swear it.

I'm just still really emotional.

I cried for twenty-four hours straight after we broke up. I didn't sleep. I wasn't even thinking. That whole period of time was just a blur. Covered in fog. I ate. A lot. I raided the kitchen and stuffed food into my mouth of the weirdest combinations: spinach and Skittles, carrots and ketchup, pretzels and...I didn't even know what I was eating in truth. I crammed food in my mouth until I thought I'd explode, and then threw up in the bathroom. Over and over again, the same routine. No one was home, of course. No one was ever home anymore. Just me, myself, and I. And I was getting used to it.

I put sad music on and just sobbed like a maniac.

I cried, and cried, and cried. I cried so much that everything hurt. My eyes, my nose, and my mouth. Everything.

Especially my heart.

My whole room was filled to the brim with used, snotty tissues. I didn't move either. I was just a sad lump on the floor, like a lazy sack of potatoes.

And then it really dawned on me. That is when it dawned on me that we weren't really in love. If we were so in love, he wouldn't care that he'd have to look after me like that. And it was okay to be in a relationship even if you weren't madly in love with them.

It was _okay_. Practice. Practice for true love.

And then I miraculously somehow stopped crying.

------------------------

It's been a week. I think I've already said that...

I went to my locker, unprepared to see Amanda there. I had been dodging her all week, and I could tell from the look on her face that she had been meaning to say something to me.

I was surprised to see a huge smile playing on her face.

"Hey Miley!" she exclaimed, acting as if the whole incident in the bus had never happened.

I honestly hadn't talked to her since. I avoided going to my locker when she was there, but I had been distracted, and hadn't checked. Stupid me.

I didn't understand how she could change her moods so fast. She was so sad and scared when we were on that bus just a week ago, and now she was back to her normal self. How was this possible? How did she do it? She was smiling her famous movie star smile at me, her luscious yellow hair fell over her shoulders gorgeously, and her green eyes sparkled magically in the light. I was jealous. She was so happy all of a sudden. I would _never _be able to make that transformation.

"Hey Amanda," I replied back lazily, not realizing I looked gloomy and sad.

Amanda noticed fast though. She quickly lowered her voice and added sympathetically, "Are you over that break-up yet?"

I gave her an exaggerated, sarcastic look. Amanda laughed out loud, laughing her bright, bubbly laugh that all the boys died to hear.

"Just...give it some time. I'm sure you'll get over it. I mean...there are plenty of other great guys...take Dandruff Danny!" she laughed, gesturing over to Danny who was scartching out flakes from his hair, as usual.

We both laughed. I took out my books quickly, and closed my locker.

"I gotta go to Algebra. I uh...I guess I'll see you around," I smiled, standing up straight.

"Yeah. You too," she laughed, shutting her locker. She started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly, and turned around as if she were forgetting something.

"Oh and uh...take care of yourself there, Miley," she added in almost a whisper, not looking me in the eye. She walked away too fast for me to say anything back.

What did she mean? What in the WORLD did she mean by that? My brain hurt the rest of the day.

I came home from school, dropping my books on the floor the second I entered the house, and ran to my room.

I hadn't done homework in a week now. Who cares if I failed? I just couldn't handle school right now. Even though I understood, I still had issues. I still just...I was just so...blah. I felt so all over the place, so spaced out and like I said...blah.

After pacing my room frantically, I went to my computer to answer some fanmail. It usually took a while but this time...this time it took me four minutes. Usually it takes four hours.

I only got five fanmails.

And then I cried again. But it was okay this time. Because it was for a different reason. And then I threw up in the bathroom. Again.

And then I retured to my computer and noticed another email. It was from the anonymous emailer stranger pen pal person or whoever.

I opened up her email.

_You seriously need to email more often..._

_I've had the roughest week EVER, I swear. My head's about to rocket off. I can't stand it._

_My dad beat me two days ago. When my mom was late from work. He came into my room when I was about to get to bed and just started to...ugh, I'm sorry, but I doubt you need the details. And it hurts. Oh, it hurts so bad. I have bruises all over me. I try to cover them, I really do, and I try really hard. But I know someone'll find out. Sometime down the line. I hope this stops. I really hope so._

There was another email. This one was more recent. I opened that one too.

_Oh God...oh my effing God..._

_My parents have been fighting a lot. A lot more than they ever used to. And they used to fight A LOT. _

_I try everything I can to block it out but nothing works. I can hear it. Everything. Every itty bitty word._

_And a lot of it's about me. What did I do? I never knew I caused so much trouble. But they were. They were arguing over me. _

_About who was going to take care of me. _

_Stranger, whoever you are...I think my parents are getting a divorce. _

I gulped back tears. I didn't know why I was getting so emotional. I mean, I didn't even know this person.

I pushed myself away from my desk, sliding down in my seat.

What was I supposed to say? Sorry? I hope you get through it? I couldn't even imagine how she felt. Seriously though...what do I say? 'Living with one parent is not so bad! I only have a dad! Hey that rhymes?'

Um_, no_. Stupid me.

I had no good ideas lately. I had no sense at all. I could barely think straight.

_I don't know what I to say..._

I wrote, having no idea where I was going to go with it.

_My boyfriend just broke up with me in a bus. How random. I don't even think it was planned. And...I'm a wreck. We thought we were in love...turns out we were far from it. _

_I'm failing everything. My friends don't talk to me. I don't talk to them. Not that we're mad at each other. It's just that...I don't know. I feel so alone._

_And I mean...I only have a dad...my mom died a couple years ago...it's not so bad. You get used to it. We moved too, 'cause my dad couldn't stand our house. He said that everywhere he turned, he saw her. Still bulimic and depressed...what else? Oh yeah. I have a murderer after me and my ex. Fun fun fun..._

_Like are you sure they're getting divorced? You can't be too sure. _

I just sent the email, knowing it was awkward, but I really didn't have anything else to say.

Almost immediatly, a response came.

She said:

_Stop emailing me. _

_Just stop. Never email me again. Okay? You understand? _

_Forget we ever spoke. _

That was it. I froze. I was speechless. My mouth dropped open offensively.

She was being really fresh...so mean! Was it me? Was I too rude?? I hadn't been _that _rude, had I? Oh God, I guess I had been...what a mistake.

What a stupid stupid mistake. Stupid Miley. I was so damn retarded.

_That's right, Miley. You are so stupid. Stupid stupid STUPID. That's why you're failing everything. And you're right. You're retarded. Fing retarded._

There came the voice, blaring through my ears.

And then there came the hot, flesh-burning tears.

And then came the snotty tissues.

And then came even more stressful issues.

I stopped. I hadn't gotten this feeling in years it seemed.

I needed to write a song. I _needed_ to. I snatched a paper and a pencil, and most importantly my guitar, and started to strum out a rhythm and speak out words.

It took hours, and it was ten at night when I finished, but I was so proud of myself. I smiled as I finished playing the finished product. It felt amazing to write a new song. I felt so overwhelmingly accomplished, for the first time in a long time.

Hannah would like this song.

--------------------------------------------------

At school the next morning, before I even reached my locker, Brianna came bouncing up towards me, no different at all, her long brown hair flying behind her like a cape.

"Miley, Miley!" she exclaimed, coming up to me and clutching a peculiar letter. Her smile was so wide that it hurt just to look at it.

"Um...hey Brianna..." I trailed off awkwardly.

Something was pumping through her...I wasn't sure what it was, but it sure wasn't legal.

"Hey hey!" she smiled. "Listen, if you want to meet the person you've been emailing, you can. Just sign this slip of paper here, and we'll ask that person too, and--and--if she wants to meet you to than you can and we'll tell you..."

She was speaking in run-ons like she always did. I smirked a little, trying not to be mean the best I could.

"No thanks..." I had no intention of telling her what had happened just only the day before.

"You sure?" she asked, bouncing eagerly.

"Positive."

She looked disappointed, but nevertheless, she turned around on her heel, and skipped cheerily down the hallway.

I went back to my locker, where Amanda was collecting her books.

"Hey Amanda!" I greeted, expecting an equally bright response.

But I didn't get one.

Amanda didn't even look at me. She just slammed closed her locker, and friskily walked away.

I felt tears prick my eyes. Why was she running away from me, when only she had just been so nice to me?

And Jake too. I had seen Jake in Health again, but this time, he wouldn't even look at me. He actually faked sick, and went to the nurse.

I couldn't believe it. The feeling of unwantedness washed over me again, overwhelming me. It was just so much. Why weren't they paying me any attention? It bothered me. I was itching to know. I could only think about that, the rest of the day.

See? I told you Amanda's moods change fast.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. I do own Amanda Sherwood and Garrett Sherwood though.

Miley's POV:  
It scared me that people payed even less attention to me nowadays. The next week went by slowly, slower than I ever could've imagined. I felt like I was trudging, plowing through each stressful day, failing and failing, falling and falling, and with no clear way for me to pick myself up. I felt half asleep through everything because everything felt so blurry, like I had terrible allergies or something, but it truthfully wasn't allergies at all. And my fatigue was to the maximum, taking over completely. I felt like a bear. Like all I did was sleep. Like all I wanted to do was sleep. I felt like I was hibernating. I know. It sounds stupid. But I mean that's expected. Afterall...I am stupid.

Amanda's POV:

It was weird. It felt like I was suddenly living in the past. Like everything was so old, so outdated, yet I didn't know what style would take its place in the future. Everything math concept we learned, every pair of boots I had, every pencil I touched--it all felt so old, but creatively beautiful and smart, and I instantly found myself admiring each and everything little detail. I felt so comfortable for once in my wrecked life, so vintage in a way. I felt like I was living five centuries behind. My world seemed to suddenly have been enriched with color and brightness, and everything was highlighted with attractiveness to my willing curiousity.

And for the first time in what seemed like years, I didn't feel ghost-like, and overwhelmed with fatigue. I had always been so tired, and that's why I always tried to be so bright. I tried to kick myself into the spirit of things, and maybe brighten my mood. I had learned to be an optimistic person on the outside, while inside, I was drowning from being so pessimistic. I never believe the optimistic things I would say.

But for once, I actually saw things for what they were and reasoned with logic. Everything I saw or heard of had meaning, no matter how simple. Just drinking a sip of water over the past week could preoccupy me for hours it seemed, just pondering hard the uses and importances of water. Everything, just everything, seemed so important and delicate to me now, and I had sudden appreciation for the object or idea, and for whomever came up with it too.

I loved living this way, but nothing so grand and gorgeous lasts for long, does it?

I sat in my math class this morning, and I just couldn't focus, and math was my favorite subject. I was irritable, wriggling in my seat like I had for the past week of sudden enlightenment in my life. Instead of watching the clock tick and tock like most impatient kids do, my mind absentmindedly shifted to all the objects in the room, identifying them and overrating them in my head.

And then all suddenly, all of a sudden, it came to me.

All in math class, all of it came rushing to me, overwhelming me.

And I didn't cry, like I had been expecting myself to.

I think that was because of the abrupt effect of the whole my-life-suddenly-got-brighter thing.

I knew what to do now. And surprisingly, that didn't scare me.

I ran briskly to a bathroom I had discovered years ago, when I was only just in sixth grade. It was all the way at the other end of the school, in a narrow, hidden corridor, where the only rooms there were used as storage for janitors. I walked into the empty bathroom, preparing myself for anything unexpected. The lights were off, so I flipped the switch. They flickered on. The light was very weak, but it was good enough. The glow warmed the room like Christmas. The bathroom looked like it hadn't been visited in a year or two. It was honestly very clean. Even though many students had forgotten that bathroom, it seemed like the janitors hadn't.

I clutched my notebook tightly in one hand, my pencil in the other. I seated myself on a toilet in an vacant stall, and scribbled down everything that came to my head. It all came to me so fast. So easy. So organized. It just...flowed. Flowed out of my brain quickly.

I had never ever ever _ever_ seen my handwriting so messy. Usually it was all nice and girly and curvy, but at the moment, my thoughts were coming out so fast, that on paper they looked like an explosion at the spaghetti factory. I didn't want forget _anything_. Every little bit was crucial.

I was sitting there for a while, just holding the note, rereading it over and over. Not that I wasn't sure this was the right thing to do. Oh I knew it. I was never more sure of anything in my life. I had to give this in.

And I thought so much. About my life. Of how rough and terrible it had been. And how unfair. How unfair it was for me. Everyone was always telling me, "You're so lucky that you're so gorgeous and that you're so smart, and you have a fantastic personality." And they would go on on how jealous they were.  
Uh-huh. Okay. So I was smart. And I was gorgeous. And I _guess _I had a fanstastic personality. But I was a mess internally.

Honestly, I'd rather be the most hideous, dumbest girl on the planet with loving parents and an easy-going life than being a smart, drop-dead gorgeous girl that was unwanted.

I sighed, surprised to find tears spring into my eyes, and I left the bathroom, running down to the main hallway and stuffing it in through the dent.

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I then made my way to Social Studies, my least favorite class.

"Hey Amanda," Lilly Truscott greeted me like she did everyday.

"Hey Lilly," I said back, smiling brightly and sitting down in my usual set next to her in the last row. We sat all the way in the back of the classroom, and Mr. Hart was practically deaf, so we always talked.

But today we didn't.

All of a sudden, all the fatigue I hadn't had for the last week, swarmed all over me, all at once.

I was suddenly dizzy. Everything was swirling in front of me; the images of the classroom, my earliest memories, Garrett, my parents fighting, my mom not caring, Miley, Jake, failing--failing--failing--falling, never good enough...

"_Amanda!" Garrett hollered to me from by the brown stable's fence. An excited look was embedded all over his face, and he was bouncing._

"_What?" I asked breathlessly, running to him. _

"_The Grouch finally said we could ride them whenever we want," he said, jollier than St. Nick himself. "It was about time." _

_I smiled so hard that my face hurt, but I barely cared. I jumped a little too much from anxiousness. _

_He unlocked the wooden gate easily, and I followed him hungrily into the open stable. _

"_Wha--? Are you...serious?" I whispered dazily, making my way over to Happy, the horse I had tended to for the past month and a half. I stroked its soft mane, which I brushed almost everyday. _

"_I swear it," he grinned goofily, letting his horse, Jack, out. Our backs were facing each other as we both readied our horses. _

"_Wow," I breathed, bringing Happy out and strapping on a leather saddle to her back. I felt like singing, like I was on top of the whole world. "This must be the best thing that's happened all summer."_

_Garrett simply laughed aloud, "I know, 'Manda. What a shitty summer, huh? I mean...it's not like we've ever had a great one. I'm...sorry. It shouldn't have to be like this. It really doesn't have to be. For me and for you. For us, you know. It's all my fault. All my stupid, freaking fault. God Mandy, I'm...I-I'm just so...so sorry."_

_He sighed with difficulty. I knew he was crying. I felt my throat cork. Tears welled up in my eyes also, too fast for me too stop. My movements became so jittery that I just stopped. _

"_It...it's n-not your fault, Garry. And you know it. So--don't...d-don't even try to blame it on yourself. Okay?" I felt my face burning. "It's mom and dad's fault."_

"_I know. I know that, Mandy. But then...but then why does it seem like it's all mine?" he sniffled in hard, and turned around, readying to lead Jack outside for a ride._

_Tears were falling down my cheeks in squiggly rivers._

_There was pure silence for many lonely minutes. I knew that Garrett and I were both thinking the same thing._

_The Grouch a.k.a. my mother's sister Ada had us for the entire summer, much against her wants. My father had run off with an aerobics instructor, and my mother well...she was in rehab. The whole summer had been trash. Aunt Ada treated us as if we were vermin, her slaves; not, in any way, her guests. She made us mow the pastures, tend to all the horses, clean the stables, collect the eggs from the chickens, and all the other dirty chores, rarely giving us moments of freedom. At first, I really wished she didn't live on a farm. Too many chores, and no electricity. We seriously had to use outhouses. How sad, huh? _

_It was just so like Dad though. So like him to run off with some other lady, and then Mom would have to convince herself that her heart was made of steel. She acted as if she didn't care, as though she were hardly affected, but it was totally the opposite. She broke down, and became an alcoholic. She's so stupid. She really is. My mom barely finished high school. I don't know where the hell I got my smarts from. Aunt Paige sent her to rehab, and that's the only good thing she'd ever done. My mother is truly crazy. She's so hippy-like, so out there and daring. I wish she were more down-to-earth. _

_Her and dad were always arguing, ever since I could remember. I knew that they only reason they kept together was because of me and Garrett. Heck, they weren't even married! They barely liked us. _

_Dad had left because of me. I knew it. I knew he hated kids, and that Garrett and I were just accidents. We were totally unwanted. Mom also hated kids. She used us as her little experiments. I was tired of being used. I just wanted to be loved, and live in a happy, simple loving family.  
I knew Garrett craved that too. At night we talked about it, for hours on end. We talked about everything, anything that came to our minds. That was the amazing part about Garrett. I was so lucky to have him as a twin. I'm glad I live with him. _

_Garrett was born first. And by a lot. A whole three days. I was a surprise. No one knew I was there. My mother, being the genius that she is, didn't want to go to a real hospital bceause it would cost too much, so she went to a crappy one that her loco cousin owned. It was a really poor hospital, and so they really didn't have any...machines or anything, so they didn't do an ultra sound or anything to check if I was there! So, three days later, my dumb mom unexpectedly gave birth to me in a car. Can you believe how stupid she is?! She told me she felt contractions still, but she thought it was nothing, so she brushed it off. Seriously, how stupid can you be? Well, this shows you how much she wanted another child. _

_I barely had any friends except Garrett. Mom hated me. Dad hated me. Aunt Ada hated me. Everyone hated me._

_Garrett sensed I was thinking about that. _

"_You know what? Let's not talk about this--let's just enjoy the ride while we can, okay?" Garrett tried. _

"_Okay," I quivered. "I'll meet you there in a minute. I've just got to...fix the saddle."  
I was so embarrassed, but I didn't care. I needed sometime alone. _

"_Fine, then." Garrett left the stable with Jack, closing the tall gate firmly behind him. _

_I collapsed onto the hay, which crunched underneath me unpleasantly. I barely noticed its uncomfort. I bawled into my hands, never feeling so pitiful in my entire life. The whole thrill of finally being able to ride Happy was beginning to fade away. _

_I forced myself up, and I solemnly led Happy out onto the lush green pasture. Just miles and miles and miles of green, on and on and on. _

_I sighed, mounting Happy, and bounding off under the hard sun, trailing after Garrett. _

_------------------------------------------_

"_And the highest score in the class on the placement test was...a full 100 percent!" Mr. Frank exclaimed to me. "By Miss Amanda Sherwood!" _

_Everyone clapped, and I blushed. Mr. Frank handed me a certificate. _

"_Very well done, Amanda! I think you really have a future in mathematics!" he smiled warmly._

'_Thank you very much,' I wanted to say. 'But I've already decided to be a writer.'_

"_The next highest score was an 82! By Miss Alice Storms!" he read aloud._

_I felt myself redding even more, and I knew I was positively beaming as I sat back down in my seat._

_----------------------------------------------_

"_Aimee, sweetie..."_

_Sweetie?! My father had no right at all to call me 'sweetie' when we hadn't seen him months! After all the abusing, and ignoring me! _

_I spat at his feet. The back of his hand quickly connected with my cheek in one quick, slapping motion. I barely flinched._

"_Don't call me 'sweetie'. You are not my dad. Not after what you have done to us," I said bravely, balling up my fists at my sides._

"_Us?" my father repeated, raising his eyebrows, and laughing a little at me._

"_Garrett and I," I responded coldly._

_My father threw his head back and chuckled evilly, "Garrett is dead. Garrett is gone. Remember? Finally someone less to worry about."_

_It took all the strength I had in me to abstain from punching him in the stomach. I clenched my teeth hard together, completely fuming. _

"_You--you--!" I started, unable to find the words I needed so desparately. _

"_ENOUGH OF THIS!" he burst, snatching my wrist and squeezing it until my veins turned purple. _

"_Let go!" I yelled, wrenching away, tears falling from my eyes. He kicked me to the floor, and pounded in my stomach._

"_I need you to meet Jeana, that's all I'm asking of you brat," he said disgustedly._

"_Jeana? Who's that? Oh wait, let me guess...a stewardess? A club stripper? _Another _aerobics instructor?" I menaced. _

Smack.

"_Shut up. Now get in there, and act happy and nice. And not a word. Not a single word about this," he pulled me up roughly from under my armpits, and set me to my feet. _

_I cried silently to myself as he nudged me hard into the next room, where a lovely brunette lady was sipping a cup of coffee. Her face was warm and gentle, and her eyes were a soft baby blue. Her clothes were neat and stiff, and she looked about in her late twenties._

_I glared at my father. _

"_I'll leave you two alone while I go get Amalia a drink," he said, leaving the room._

"_I'm not--I'm not Amalia. Or Aimee either. My name's Amanda," I said awkwardly into the quietness._

_I stood there, feeling very misplaced, clasping my sweaty hands tightly behind my back. _

"_I'm Jeana. I didn't even know Robert had a daughter! I do wish he would talk about you more, because you really are a beautiful girl, and you seem very intelligent," she smiled calmly. _

"_Thank you," I answered, not smiling. I rocked nervously on my tip-toes, back and forth into the bothering silence. My voice quivered, "Where did you two meet?" _

"_At a casino. I was organizing an event there.."_

"_Ah. Of course," I found myself saying, and then before I knew it, I had broken down into tears in front of Jeana. I fell to the floor on my knees, my face in my hands, sobbing to my fullest, and in desparate need of tissues._

_Jeana didn't know what to do. She stood up slowly, her mouth open as if she were going to say something. _

"_Jeana, please--please...get out of here. He'll...he's not a g-good--a good g-guy. S-save yourself. Bef-fore it's t-too late. Or else you will end up like...like me and my dead brother." _

_Jeana's eyes widened; grabbing her bag, she stood up and ran, leaving the door open for me to escape too. _

_But I didn't. I couldn't. I felt my father's firm, sturdy hands squeezing around my throat just as I was about to leave the room._

_---------------------------------------------------_

I wobbled in my seat, swaying the to the side and to the front and all over. And suddenly the sickness took control again, rolling my eyes back in its sockets, and wiping me out.

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Miley's POV:  
I shuffled in the direction of my locker at the end of the day, a smile plastered on my face for once. It was a little fake, but at least I was _trying _to be a little cheerful.

I approached the locker, and the janitor was there. The nice, middle-aged sympathetic man whose eyes crinkled warmly when he smiled, and who had a thick Brooklyn accent. I had always liked him; he had always been excessively kind so me, and never called me Milly. He always remembered my name was Miley.

I noticed at one that he was cleaning out Amanda's locker.

"Hey!" I yelled a little too loudly. "That's Amanda's locker! What are you doing?"

The janitor to stopped, and looked at me sympathetically.

"Please tell me you know what happened Miley," he begged sadly,"because I honestly don't want to be the one that has to break it to you," he sputtered out solemnly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," I said, opening my locker, and stuffing out a fallen note into my pocket.

"Sweetheart--Amanda died this morning."

I froze.

"What?" I asked, thinking I had heard wrong.

"Her sickness apparently came back in such a big wave that it overwhelmed her, and killed her."

"You sure?" I choked hopefully.

"Positive."

It didn't need to sink in. It already had from the last time I thought Amanda was dead.

"Oh..." I croaked. I tear fell from my eye, and I leaned myself on my wrist that was extended to the locker. My breathing was hard, raspy, and heavy.

She was really dead now. For real. No joke.

The poor janitor seemed out of place, and wiping his forehead, he added quietly, "I think I'll just go now."

I nodded, and slammed my locker door shut with all the energy I had in me.

I was so angry that I could rip my own eyes out.

What bad had Amanda done do this world? She had no reason to be yanked out of life. She was innocent. It wasn't fair.

"It's not fair!" I screamed, insanity struck in my voice, I started banging my fist against the locker, which rattled as its response.

My eyes traveled over to where Amanda's locker stood open still. I carefully walked over.

Her notebooks were neatly stacked in one pile, with her textbooks in another neat pile, and everything else in neat piles.

Except one thing.

It was a notebook. A journal. A diary.

I opened it, and skipped to the end.

_April 2nd, 2007_

_Hey, it's me again. Garrett's still haunting me. When I go to bed, he's all I think about. I just see his face, and I miss him so much--he was my brother, my twin; when he died, I did too. I've never felt whole since. I feel like a part of me is lagging behind, lost and confused. Mom acts like he was never alive, and it kills me. It's an awful mission just to find a picture of him. The only one I managed to save from Mom was this one of us. I've pasted it below. Sigh. I miss him. Oh! Mom's coming...um...gotta go._

_Amanda S._

It haunted _me _to read those words. I traced my fingers over her light, loopy script carefully, feeling ghostly.

Like she had written, right below was a glossy picture. There was gorgeous Amanda, maybe only two years younger, her yellow hair shining, her green eyes sparkling, and her smile warming my heart like usual. She was a wearing a tight tanktop, and short shorts. Her arm was around a boy who looked her age. Garrett looked nothing like her. He had dark chestnut brown hair that covered his hazel eyes, and tanned skin. They were franternal obviously, not identical. But what was identical was their smiles. Exactly the same. He was also in summer clothes, and the sun was hot and heavy on their shoulders, making them squint slightly. They were sitting on a picnic bench with rolling green hills and lush fields behind them, a small barn in one corner.

_April 2nd, 2007_

_Oh good, she left. Phew. Close. She almost saw you, Diary. See him? See Garrett up there? Doesn't he look so friendly? Oh, he was. We got along so well. We hardly looked alike. He always envied my blonde hair, and I always envied his mesmerizing hazel eyes. Funny, huh? And after he died, my hair became so special to me all of a sudden. _

_Amanda S._

_April 3rd, 2007_

_Garrett, Garrett, Garrett. I've been thinking about him so much lately. I remember when he died. I remember creeping into his room that Monday morning, screaming at him to wake up, and then feeling his pulse, already in tears. I yelled my heart out. I had never been so angry in my life. So sad. Mom came rushing up stairs, taking a look at Garrett, and shrugged. And I smacked her. First time ever. I had been wanting to do it for a while now, and I finally did it. But it hardly felt good because I was so upset over Garrett. Mom just slapped me back, and physically kicked me out the room, giving me bruises. I cried so much. I was so depressed. I was angry. Angry at God, and Mom. How could she not care? I stayed home from school for a week. By Thursday, his body was cremate. There was no funeral. I wish there was. Garrett totally deserved one. So if I die, I want a funeral. And it can be for me AND Garrett. I could make up for it. _

_Amanda S._

_April 4th, 2007_

_When I woke up this morning, I felt really...weird. Like so out of place, and it just felt like something was...off. I felt really dizzy, and I had a huge headache. I've been trying to brush it off, but it's not working...Oh God...I think I'm going to throw up...um...be right back--_

_Oh Lord. I just threw up in the bathroom. What is wrong with me? What's been the matter with me recently? I just don't feel like myself. And I've been switching moods really fast...I'm not bipolar, am I? _

'_Till another time,_

_Amanda Kay Sherwood :-?)_

_(Like my mustache guy up there? haha)_

I smiled just a little bit at the mustache part, but frowned at the rest.

I had never known. It really had been such a huge secret for poor Amanda.

I felt so guilty all of a sudden. Like I should've been nicer to her. She deserved better.

"Ahhh!" I screamed, turning around immediatly after feeling someone touch my arm.

"It's me, Miley. Just me. Jake," he said simply.

* * *

A/N: Ok, I'm reallllllllllly not crazy about this chapter. This was supposed to be huge, and I tried, but...I still feel like I did poorly. If I need to redo it, I certainly will.

I welcome constructive critisim!!!!

sorry it took so long for the update. my internet was down.


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: I do not own Keke Palmer or Hannah Montana. I DO own Amanda and Garrett Sherwood.

* * *

Miley's POV:  
"Jake," I said softly, my eyes widening.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was tender, and he was actually staring straight into my eyes for the first time in a while. His face was gentle, and calm.

"Amanda died," I said, trying to act like it was no big deal.

Jake shook his head hard, tears in his eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead," I choked.

"_Wow_," he croaked. "She's really gone."

"I know." I pursed my lips hard, gulping back my tears as best as I could.

"_God_, she was too young to die!" Jake whispered, staring hard at the floor.

I nodded stiffly, tears dripping from my eyes.

We both just stood their oddly together, feeling very out of place, tears dripping down our faces.

And then Jake pulled me in to a huge hug, wrapping his arms around me, pressing me close to him. He pushed me against the cold lockers gently, so that my back was against it, and we both just cried together.

My nose was deep in his neck, and his nose was in my hair. I could feel him inhaling my scent, and his tears trickled down my neck.

"She didn't do anything bad! She only helped us…" I trailed off in tears.

Jake only nodded numbly. We just continued to cry in each other's arms, forgetting any awkwardness between us.

"She'd been acting so oddly lately!" I sighed. "I really should've tried to help her."

"Me too," Jake agreed.

He squeezed my shoulders reassuringly.

Out of the blue, Jake asked me, "How've things been?"

"Terrible," I sniffed, salty tears trickling into my mouth.

"Me too."

It was quiet again, and I felt Jake sighing hard into my hair.

"Jake?" I asked curiously.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. It was obvious that he trying to suppress his outrage, but it showed in his forced voice.

"What?" I asked innocently. What was he talking about?  
Jake sighed hard again, and I pulled away, staring into his beautiful face. Tears were falling down fast, and I reached up and stroked his cheek.

His jaws grinded together, and he only replied, "That you were bulimic."

My heart jolted in shock, and my stomach churned unpleasantly. Jake didn't even dare disconnect our eyes. I just stared into his deep green eyes, guilt starting to surface in my face and eyes. I didn't blink. I just stared at him, taken aback. My eyes started to water, and I thought my knees would give way.

"Jake…" I started carefully, having no idea what to say. "I—it…it was a secret."

"A secret? Miley, if it were a _secret _than how come you _told _me?" he said breathlessly. "You told me over email. Why? Why did you tell someone you thought was a stranger, but yet not me…your own boyfriend?"

I opened my mouth in protest, desperately trying to find words. I knew whatever I would say would sound pathetic.

"I was insecure, Jake," I swallowed with difficulty. "And you know what? I still am."

Jake gulped, and his eyes strayed nervously over to the floor, then the ceiling, then his shoes…

"Jake? Can I see? Show me those bruises."

"No!" his face was filled with horror. "I just…no. That's…personal."

"Jake…are your parents really getting divorced?" I asked, touching his arm gently.

Jake nodded uncomfortably, and fresh tears started to flow from his eyes again.

"Why didn't you tell me your parents were getting divorced?" I asked demandingly.

"Why didn't _you _tell me that you were bulimic? Listen Miley, let's not even go at it, okay? We know it's just going to go in a circle," Jake responded, still upset.

I just pulled him into another huge hug, and we held each other, shaking with tears.

"Miley, Miley!" I looked up to see Lilly Truscott sprinting to me, tears stung in her eyes.

"Miley, Amanda _died_!" Lilly cried. "I've been trying to tell you since forever now!"

"We know," I said softly, separating myself from Jake. Lilly glanced from Jake to me nervously, contemplating what our relationship status was now. She opened her mouth carefully, deciding to speak.

"Miley, I saw…I saw her die."

It grew quiet between us all of a sudden. I stared at Lilly, who guiltily bit her lip, tears spilling from the rim of her eyes.

"Miley…she was sitting next to me, and then she just…fainted. And—and I told Mr. Hart and he called the ambulance—oh, Miley! It was so horrible. Everyone was crying…and…I just feel—" Lilly took in a deep breath. "Miley…you know how she died? You know why?"

I felt Jake reach for my hand and squeeze it.

"Yeah. Her sickness took over so hard that she gave way," I said, my voice wobbly.

"Well…" Lilly sighed hard, her voice raspy. "This is going to be hard to break to you…"

"What?" I asked softly, preparing myself for the news.

"Miley…they did tests at the hospital, and there were traces of drugs in her blood," Lilly told me hesitantly.

"_What?!?!_ Lilly, that's _crazy_! Amanda would never ever take drugs! She was a smart girl, she had good morals! I mean…no! That's not accurate," I said.

Seriously…Amanda was smart, she knew not to take drugs! She'd never take them. I had known Amanda well enough to know that. That was outrageous. They'd probably done the tests wrong!

"Miley, calm down. She didn't take the drugs...her mom injected them into her blood," Lilly said unstably, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Are you serious?" I asked, my heart sinking. Everything else started to register in my mind; falling into place.

"I swear. You probably don't know this because you only moved here in seventh grade, but Amanda used to have a twin brother. His name was Garrett, and he died at the very end of sixth grade. And they just realized that he died because their mother had also injected drugs in his blood too, and it took over him. The only thing I don't understand is _why _their mother would do that to them…" Lilly shook her head.

I did. I didn't dare say anything though. I knew that that was personal information, and even though Amanda was dead, she wouldn't have wanted other people to know how much their mother hated them and how they were her little experiments. I wanted to respect Amanda the best I could, now that she was dead. The best I could do from her this far away.

"So? Where's her mother now?" I replied unsteadily.

"She ran. The police are looking for her…she sounds like a lunatic. But it seems like she's very far, so we don't have to worry," Lilly explained.

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief, when I sucked in my breath uneasily.

It was silent as we thought about Amanda. And then I realized that's why her moods were always switching. Because of those drugs! They made her uneasy, and depressed and tired. They irregulated her personality. They made her sick sometimes too. That was why she'd fainted that long time ago! Those stupid drugs. That was why she'd gotten so sick.

"We need to give her a funeral. Okay? I know she'd want one. And for her brother too. She, er, she told me once that her brother never had a funeral and she wanted him to have one. So…we really should hold a funeral for them," I said carefully.

Jake and Lilly both looked up at me peculiarly, but then their faces softened.

"Okay," Lilly said, smiling just a little.

"Great idea Miles," Jake said.

I nodded, pressing my lips together awkwardly.

"Yeah," I said. "It's a good way of…respecting her. And her brother too."

They nodded back, and then they both stared at me.

"I think I'm just going to go home," I said finally, turning around and simply leaving.

* * *

Instead of going home, I went to the beach. It was empty, as it was just the middle of a school day. I sat down on the sand. It was chilly again.

Luckily I was wearing a sweatshirt. I pulled the hood up over my head, and stuffed my hands in its pockets. But then I felt something. A folded up piece of notebook paper.

I reached in and pulled out the note, unfolding it carefully. What was it? I barely even remembered putting a note in my pocket…

I gasped. My mouth went drier than the desert.

It was from Amanda. She'd left me a note. It was very long, and all written in messy cursive. There were little droplets of water on the thin piece of paper that were still wet. Amanda's tears.

My eyes watered as I read the long letter.

_Dear Miley,_

_I know I'm dying. I can feel it in my bones. They feel like they're hollow, and I feel so weak. I figured I would die around this time. My body can't hold on for this long, running on drugs, can it? I knew my mom had been giving them to me ever since Garrett died. I mean, I figured. But I didn't stop her. I just let her inject those drugs. She'd do it almost every week, and I got used to feeling the sharp needle in my veins in the middle of the night when she thought I was fast asleep. I mean, what reason did I have to live for? Nothing. No one. Those drugs were weird; I only realized just before I started to write this for you that they were what was changing my moods and making me tired. They made me do some stupid stuff; that included acting as a murderer. Yes, Miley. I was the murderer. The stupidest idea I've ever had. And I'm so sorry—I understand if you never forgive me. You don't have to. That was ridiculous of me to do, even though I did that off of drugs. I'm so sorry, I really am—for all the pain; the worrying Jake and you went through. I had this whole bogus plan too on how to get Jake. And then when you asked me to pretend to date Jake…I was in shock. But I agreed to it. Because I had a sick mind at that time. I thought that I could get closer to Jake that way. And then my mood changed again, and made me…feistier, I guess you could say. So, I'm sorry for that too. And I know you're also wondering what happened when I was in that bathroom on that field trip. Well…I felt so guilty. Why was I guilty? Miley, I hate to have to tell you this way, and it really does kill me, but…I tried to kill you. I'm SO sorry. I feel so stupid, and I feel so guilty! I'd never felt guiltier in my entire life. When you went over the cliff, I accidentally kicked a rock at your foot so you'd trip over the edge. Hate me. I know. I deserve it. But I am truly sorry. It was all the drugs! I couldn't do anything. I was trapped inside myself. And so, in that bathroom, I felt so terrible; so guilty that I just…overflowed. Passed out. And I'm so sorry you had to deal with that. And please…get over bulimia. For me. Please? My dying wish. You'll feel so much better…I promise. You were a great friend, Miley. So thank you so much for being there for me. For saving me. And even if you regret saving me now that you know I was planning to kill you at the time, like I said: I really wasn't. That wasn't really me. Luckily, you did get to know the real me too. If you ever need anything, just look up—I'll be up there. In heaven. Promise you. Keep holding on, okay? Tell Jake sorry for me, and he can have all of my brother's stuff. Jake'd love that. Garrett was a sports fanatic, and I'm sure Jake would love his collections. He can have them. And you can have my clothes and my shoes and accessories. All yours. And my money. Really. Take it. I left a key in your locker to my house. I know my mom will be gone by the time she finds out I'm dead, so no one will be there. You can just go up and help yourself to anything you want. And no objections. You need to take that stuff. My gift to you. Thanks Miley. This is my goodbye. My final farewell. After this, I'll never talk to you again. And I'm sorry my tears are making this paper all soggy and wet, but they just won't stop spilling from my eyes. So I'm sorry for that too. I'm just…sorry. Sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. And remember: keep holding on. Keep strong. And I'll be watching you. All the way from up above. _

_Speechlessly,_

_Amanda Kay Sherwood _

_P.S. And, for one last time, mustache guy -- :-?) _

If her diary freaked me out, this freaked me out even more. My own tears joined Amanda's on the paper as they dropped endlessly.

She had left this for me. She cared. Amanda had actually cared about me. And she was so much like me…if I would've known…

She thought no one cared about her. I cared about her! And I was sure other people did too. If only I could've told her…. Her life wasn't worthless! It was definitely worth living. She could make it better…she could've improved it!

And then I realized where Amanda was going with this. Good ole Amanda, playing those physiological games on me. Even when she was dying. That's how much she wanted me to get better.

Me.

I was like that. I was giving someone with the same problem as me advice. I was basically telling myself that I could improve my life! Sneaky Amanda. But so caring. Like she'd always been.

I half-smiled.

How'd she even know? How'd she even know that I was bulimic? I guess I'd never know. I would try to get better. I would respect her dying wish. And I didn't hate her. Like she said, it wasn't really her doing that. It was those idiot drugs.

I looked up to the cloudy gray sky, my smile spreading.

"Amanda…" I said, smiling to my fullest now. "I got your letter. And no, I don't hate you."

She seemed to respond, for the clouds quickly pulled away, and revealed the bright sun, shining down on me happily.

* * *

Hannah's POV:  
I was back on stage, the hot lights blaring in my face, causing me to squint into the crowd.

"How'd you like that? Great job, Keke Palmer!" I said, applauding with the audience as Keke left the stage.

I bravely took the microphone, and slowly stepped forward upstage. My face was serious, my voice too. The audience cooperatively quieted.

"So…" I started confidently. "Listen…fans, all of you loyal people out there, thank you _so _much. I know I haven't been like myself lately. I know that. I've just been really under pressure recently, and I'll admit I'm not a very strong person. It's okay if you're not, but that doesn't mean that you can just give up and crumble under any weight. That's what I did, and that was one of the worst decisions I ever made. Now I'm a little better, but I'll also admit I haven't fully recovered. I was living in the dark, I was very emotional, and I wrote many songs," I breathed in hard. "And…I'm going to share them with you."

The crowd whooped and cheered and applauded, and I smiled slightly at my brave decision, knowing it wasn't a bad one. These were the people that loved me. They would respect me.

I picked up my guitar, and sat down in the chair, starting to sing.

"I know that lately I've been all over the place

No one has tried to help me or give me space

Every person I know is an unfamiliar face

How in the world did I even get to this place?

It's like I was in a race

And I completely lost my pace

And now I'm so discouraged

As I watch others fly before me.

There's no use in trying now

I'm so far behind now

And I don't know why I expect

Someone to run back and get me.

I want to understand more than anything

But my mind just keeps on lingering

And I just can't keep my focus

And I'm spinning out of control.

I know I haven't been home too often

But it's not like you have

And I'm sorry I'm being so blunt

But you haven't been acting like my dad.

Where have I gone?

I can't seem to find myself

What has happened to me?

I know I'll never be the same again.

There's nobody at home

And I'm stuck all alone

I know that my depression has shown

So why do you still leave me on my own?

No one will listen to me

No one wants to put up with me

No one wants to waste their time

No one even cares about me.

Why should I even bother?

Do you even know how close I was?

There were so many people that could've helped

But they didn't; they just smirked and left.

I'm tried of failing and trailing and bailing and wailing and assailing and not nailing and frailing

Why did you even have me if you were just not going to care?

I just want to be loved by someone; is anybody even there?

I don't even know if I want to get better

Because I know that I am so far

If you even know what I have gone through

You'd really think I am one tough star."

I swallowed hard, staring out into that thick, bustling crowd. Many were crying, and I found myself shocked. A girl screamed, "You go Hannah!"

"That was so brave!" A mother said.

I smiled slightly.

"You want another one?" I asked carefully. The crowd screamed yes in response.

"Okay then…" I trailed off, clearing my throat. My face became serious again, and my smile disappeared as I remembered one song that would be perfect. I had really been sad when I'd written this one…

I strummed by guitar, and hummed lightly, remembering the tune far back in my head.

"I'm falling out of love

And falling into a hole

Where I am alone

And all on my own

And I'm screaming hard

But no one can hear me

And now there's a scar

Engraved in my heart

Why did you do it this way?  
What was running through your mind

When you left me behind

Bleeding and crying and practically dying

And gasping, "You're lying!"

And why? Why me?

And the worst part's that you see me

But you all you do is laugh

And I just can't believe it

How do we have nothing left?

I'm not ready for this

Just one final kiss

What did I miss?

Just give me a list

I know I seem desperate

But you should've known you were asking for it

I thought that you knew me all along

But I know that thought was clearly wrong

I'm falling out of love

And falling into a hole

Where I am alone

And all on my own

And I'm screaming hard

But no one can hear me

And now there's a scar

Engraved in my heart."

I inhaled sharply, staring out into the crowd. They were all just staring at me. At my face. I brought my fingers up to my face, which I found to be wet.

I had been crying.

I laughed it off nervously.

And then my eyes connected with someone standing far off behind the curtains on stage. With my father's eyes. He was standing there, not moving, his expression blank and flat. He didn't mouth anything. His face didn't change. His eyes burned into mine like fire, and I looked away.

"Well!" I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. "Thank you all! Keke will come back out here and perform her new song, 'Keep it Movin''! I love this song, and I think you guys will too!"

I clasped my guitar tightly, setting the microphone back into place on the stand, and I quickly returned backstage, making my way through the set of curtains on the opposite side of the stage.

I went back to my dressing room, only to find Jake there.

"Oh—" I said, closing the door behind me, and laying my guitar on the sofa. "Jake!"

I had shown him the letter yesterday, at Amanda and Garrett's funeral. It had been very emotional, and almost the entire school was there! Even the principal. Her parents weren't there, of course. But I didn't think she'd liked them anyway. I'd made a really long teary speech, as well as Jake, Lilly, and many other people. It was satisfying in a way. I hoped Amanda up there realized how much people really loved and missed her.

Jake took a courageous step forward, and said lightly, "I heard those songs. They were beautiful."

"Thanks," I said, slightly embarrassed. I felt my face redden. Why was I suddenly so shy?

Jake just smiled.

"That was so brave of you," he set his hands firmly on my waist. "I wouldn't never been able to do that."

"It was hard. Very—"

But then Jake mashed his soft lips against mine, and we kissed like there was no tomorrow.

I pulled away, smiling.

"I think that kiss just made my year," I said slyly.

"Mine too," he said, and he kissed me again.

* * *

A/N: There you guys have it. The last chapter. Hope you liked it! I can always rewrite it if it sucked. Just tell me. Please read the note below!  
**Important Note::: The next chapter will be a Questions and Answers (Q & A) chapters. This story was a little foggy, and I know it was confusing at times, so this is your chance to ask questions! You can also ask questions about other stuff, like how I came up with ideas for the story, characters, or whatever! If no one gives me questions, I'll make them up and then answer them anyway! **

Current Song Stuck In My Head: Take You There by Sean Kingston


	38. Q & A

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. If I did, this fic wouldn't be a fic. It'd be an actual series of episodes. I DO own Brianna, and Amanda Sherwood though.

**Questions and Answers**

**Q: How did this story come to you? **

A: This story came to me really randomly. When I started writing this story, it was meant to be short, sweet, and romantic. It was really only supposed to end with Miley breaking her leg and blabbiddy blah blah. But at the time I started writing this, in March, I was really depressed. Everyone in my grade had a story like Amanda's, Miley's, or Jake's. Including me. Everyone was messed up, and I just felt like I needed to write a story out of it. So, I took some kids in my grade and based them on these characters. The murderer thing wasn't supposed to be that big either, and it wasn't even supposed to be Amanda as the murderer, but I'd already introduced her, and I figured why not: I'd just pull her in. I don't really like having characters out there without a purpose.

**Q: Where did you think Amanda up and her background? **

A: I thought Amanda up from one of my friends at school. She always really intrigued me, mostly because how everyone in our grade thought she was "perfect". She was exactly how I described Amanda: absolutely gorgeous, incredibly smart, friendly, charismatic, outgoing, positive…the list goes on. Everyone thought she was a goddess or something. But she wasn't. As I got to know her better and become better friends with her, it became obvious to me that she was the farthest thing from perfect. All these kids would be so jealous of her that they would bully her. Her siblings hated her too, and would bully and make her miserable also. She had scars and bite marks all over her body. Her supposedly "best friend" (whom I modeled Kayla after) actually threw an iron at her, and she now has this huge permanent burn. She had no real friends because people didn't take her for what she was inside: they just wanted to look at her. Her boyfriend actually only went out with her to become popular, to score attention, and just to make out with her. No one _really _cared about her. And so she started going down hill. And fast. She quickly sank into a deep depression, and instead of Miley being the bulimic one; this girl was who I suspected as the bulimic girl. She would go to lunch after everyone else had eaten, and then stuff all this food down her mouth, and run to the nearest bathroom. And once, like I had written happened to Amanda, I was in that bathroom during lunch, and she was running in, but when she saw me, she stopped suddenly, apologized, and ran to another bathroom. She wouldn't talk to anyone when she was depressed, and she would wear huge sweatshirts and jeans every single day. She would just listen to her iPod all day long, with the volume really loud, as if to block out everyone else. And she started failing everything. She acted really fake, and her laugh and smile were always forced. She had no idea what she wanted, and she was just throwing her life away. I just had never thought someone could ever do that to themselves. It was weird having someone so close to you deteriorate like that.

**Q: How did you think of Amanda's role? **

A: Like I said, I had just written a little bit about her in one chapter, meaning for her to be just this minor girl. But then I wrote about the murderer randomly, and I thought I could pull in Amanda as the murderer. Suddenly, I got all these ideas and they all just seemed to fit like a puzzle.

**Q: Why was Miley's dad so distant? **

A: I don't know if I ever got the chance to say it, but Miley's dad was supposed to be an alcoholic. That was why he was so distant. He was never himself, like Amanda in a way. It was like he didn't have time for Miley, and so he really pushed her to the side.

**Q: Did Jake know that it Miley was the pen pal the whole time? **

A: No. He only realized it at the end. He was so shocked and so scared, that he told Miley to stop emailing him. That was why he couldn't look at her for that week. That was why he was so far away from her.

**Q: Where'd you get the idea for Brianna? **

A: There's just this really obnoxious girl at my school that I just had to add in. She was really bugging me at the time, so I just needed to vent myself out…as you can see, writing is my number one way of expressing myself. A lot of the storylines and characters come from my life. Hopefully my stories won't be that depressing anymore (LOL) because I'm almost fully out of my depression, so…I've been more cheery lately….

**Q: Why didn't Lilly and Oliver try to fight back more into their friendship with Miley?**

A: In the beginning, it was too fishy for them to tell what was wrong with Miley. They thought it would just heal over time. But then as time went on, and Miley only worsened, Lilly and Oliver only became more involved with themselves, and so Miley's problems flew past them unnoticed.

**Q: Where in the world was Jackson this whole time? **

A: Jackson was just a troublemaker, and always out with his friends. He was also somewhat messed up, but definitely not as bad as any of the other characters. Ah, you know kids that age. They just feel like family isn't worth their time. Just busy, busy, busy.

**Q: Was that unknown person spying on them in the beginning Amanda?**

A: Yep. You got it. The murderer.

**Q: Are you doing a sequel?**

A: Honestly, I have no idea where to go with this story. Amanda's dead, Jake and Miley's relationship is set to go…what now? I just need a break from these characters for a while. For now, I'm going to work on my Zanessa fic. It's called 'Starting From Somewhere'. I already started it, and I'm really trying to develop it. I'm really excited about it, and I have huge plans, so check it out!

* * *

A/N: If you have any further questions, feel free to ask them in a review for this story. I'd love to add them in here.

THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL SUPPORT FOR THIS STORY!!!!!!!


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